


The Dance of Flames

by Demisses, lisaflowers



Series: Roses and Waterfalls [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Class Differences, Eventual Smut, F/M, Grumpy Elf, Romance, Slow Burn, Spitfire Princess, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2019-06-30 08:29:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 84,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15748029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demisses/pseuds/Demisses, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisaflowers/pseuds/lisaflowers
Summary: When faced with the reality that the current heir to the crown of Tir ná Lia is anything but the proper princess she should be, Avallac'h is bound by duty to set her on the path to becoming the proper little princess she aught to be. As for Áine, younger sister to King Auberon, she makes it her own personal quest to see just how far the dull advisor will go to change her.





	1. Breathe In

**Author's Note:**

> AN/ So Hi there it's me. Another WIP (I'm still working on More Than the Stars so don't fear! Just a bit slower)! This story however is a brainchild with LisaFlowers that we thought would be fun and romantic. Completely AU with a few cannon moments. Anything that didn't fit what we needed, we changed so please don't expect lore to match with every detail. Above all, this is a romance and meant to be enjoyed. Slow burn with eventual M rated material. Eventually there will be a companion fic to this with Auberon's story. Enjoy!

* * *

 

 

Petals that should have been blood red, perfectly velvet, and surrounded by their familiar scent were instead darkened and dry. Petal after petal, bloom after bloom, all were dying and for the life of her, Áine could not figure out why.

Which made no sense to the currently fuming and mud streaked Áine because if there was one thing in all of creation that Áine Órlaith Rhiannon Muircetach, Princess of Tir ná Lia, Rose of the Falls, and most importantly, younger sister to the King, knew… it was roses. And not just roses. Anything that could be planted, she could nurture and grow, and took considerable pride in her ability as well as her gardens.

It was a sign of great favor for her to accept an invite to tour a noble’s own garden, for her to study their creations, criticize them on their poor choice of fertilizer, and begin to prune the choking wisteria’s herself.

Never in all her three hundred and twelve years has she lost a plant, be it tree, vine, or bloom. She just didn’t. In fact, the rose bush which she currently knelt before, studying the dying blooms intently, was nearly as old as she was and had faithfully grown each season from a single seed to its current expanse over countless trellises and archways.

“Selly, the trowel.” Áine said quietly, reaching a hand out without breaking her gaze from the curling petals.

“Do you think it is the frost Your Highness?” Selly, her most favored servant, asked with a tremor in her voice as she placed the requested tool in Áine’s hand.

“That is nothing but utter nonsense fed to my brother by Eredin and Avallac’h in their attempt-” Áine dug the trowel roughly into the soft dirt at the base of the sick bush before stopping her beginnings of a furious speech. “No, Selly, I don’t believe this is a result of the legendary White Frost.” Áine held her hand over the cool earth now scooped into the curve of her tool and brought it to eye level.

“Does Your Highness not believe in the threat of the White Frost?” Selly asked cautiously, studying her lady’s expression.

Áine kept her silver gaze on the soil, inspecting from any anomalies that could be seen without aid of scientific equipment. “I believe all worlds face some threat of extinction or another at some point, but that is not what is killing my roses. Roses protect themselves during colder weather, which presently we are now enjoying a lovely spring. And this is not what frost damage looks like.”

Áine took another moment to scan the soil while Selly nodded along with wide understanding eyes before huffing in frustration. “A jar Selly.”

“Of course. Forgive me Your Highness, if you believe in the threat of the frost, why do you believe it to be nonsense?” Selly shuffled closer to Áine’s side, holding the request jar out with steady hands.

Áine carefully shook the soil into the jar. “When prophecies and end-of-the-worlds are involved only those in the prophecy need be concerned. I am not in this prophecy of swords and axes, madness and disdain. And neither are my brother and his _advisors_. They are meddlers and liable to get themselves killed.” Áine bit out rather fiercely, her irritation showing again in her pointed movements in brushing up fallen petals.

With a worried sigh she straightened from her task and wiped her brow with the back of her wrist and swept her gaze over her surroundings. For as far as one could see, flowers, trees, vines, and statues were placed carefully throughout. The gentle brook weaving through willows and under stone bridges until it fell from the edge of the garden in the smallest of waterfalls.

Come morning the sun would rise over the fountain that fed the brook, a nymph wild and bare save for the vines wrapped around her, as the water fell from her stone hands. The glow of the evening sun would turn the leaves and petals into works of art unlike any stained glass could manage.

Fondly she recalled countless memories of disappearing amongst the flowers for days with only those she wished to know, aware of her whereabouts. Of days reading books endlessly bathed in sunlight and falling asleep to the sound of the brook. A little magic imitating the glow of fireflies long after the insects had disappeared for the season… none could bother her here.

Until now it seemed, as she was intently bothered.

Áine’s fond gaze turned into a concerned frown as she turned it back on the rose bush. “I will take the soil Selly, you may leave me.”

Selly hesitated, her head tilted to the side. “Forgive me-”

“I thought I would find you amongst the jasmine today, you went on about how well they came in.” A warm voice came from the other side of the thick wall of roses.

“That had been the original plan yes. But Ge’els, tell me what you make of this.” She quickly snipped a dying bloom and held it up above her head for her companion to see.

“Ah yes. A dead rose, terribly poetic and ripe with gothic symbolism.” He replied dryly, leaning over the bush to inspect.

Áine rolled her eyes and dropped the rose into the jar. “So witty you are, little wonder you’ve yet to marry.”

Noticing her intent, he immediately reached a hand over the bush which she took and allowed him to help her stand. She didn’t need the aid, and likely would have refused nearly anyone else, but Ge’els liked to think himself gallant, and well, gallantry shouldn’t be repressed.

Once she stood, he waited a moment while she braced her stance which she’d perfected over the years, a part of her disguise that only he knew she wore. She read the look in his amber eyes, one that clearly stated she should have had her leg seen to ages ago, to which she narrowed her own eyes at in her own reply.

Auberon would have had her locked to her quarters for half a millennium if he’d ever found out she’d broken her leg during a spontaneous horserace with Ge’els. It wouldn’t have been cruel of him, he only would have done so an only brother who has lost much during his life. He worried so over her safety and had reacted poorly before when she was reckless.

No, it was best to heal her leg herself, leaving a jagged scar across her thigh and a limp that radiated pain which she allowed none to see other than Ge’els. By the time he’d made it to her side, she’d been up and walking towards her equally wounded horse and the two of them had worked together to heal and cover up all sign of her recklessness.

Ge’els had offered time and again his service in healing her fully but she continued to refuse him. A reminder of her own foolishness. She would never give up her rebellious little adventures, but she would be reminded to use caution when seeking out the need to feel her blood vibrating with excitement.

“Selly, return the tools to the shed, I will clean them later.” Áine held up the jar of soil for Ge’els to see. “Something is wrong with the roses, and I need to use the laboratory if I’m to find answers.”

Ge’els cleared his throat and held his hands behind his back, a familiar stance he used when he was deep in thought or had news.

Áine lowered the jar slowly, her gaze sweeping over him. “What is it?”

“Avallac’h has returned… with Lara’s human descendent.” He said simply.

Áine clenched her jaw around a curse and turned to the path that would eventually lead from the gardens.

“Your Highness! Allow me to fix your hair-”

“Hang the hair Selly. Deliver the tools to the shed as I said.” Áine had paused to look over her shoulder, allowing Ge’els to join her side.

“Yes, Your Highness.” Selly murmured and offered no more.

The pace Áine set off at was trying but she hardly cared. “My brother is a fool, listening to fools, and going to do something foolish because of it.” She muttered hotly.

“At the very least they are interesting, would you not agree?” Ge’els easily kept pace with her.

“Beyond their cursed good looks? No. One is a bloodthirsty warmonger, the other so deep in his experiments I’m certain he forgot what true social interaction is all about.” Áine replied with a roll of her eyes.

* * *

 

Avallac’h swept his gaze over the features of Cirilla- Ciri, easily picking out those which were similar to Lara. The roundness of her face was unmistakably human, but it was there in the shape of her eyes and the shade of her hair. Try as he might, he could no longer look at her and instead dragged his gaze to watch Auberon.

The loss of Lara stung them both still, for Auberon it was the loss of his daughter, for Avallac’h it was the loss of their future. Or rather the security of it. But he’d done his duty and brought Lara’s heir before his king. Now all that was left was for them to bear a child, giving the Aen Elle that security once more.

He told himself that it mattered not that the child hid her fear well, or that his king looked vaguely repulsed. They all had burdens to bear and Auberon knew that. A movement from the girl brought his attention back to her, a look over her shoulder to the still armor clad Eredin.

Auberon sat on his throne, not having said a word since their arrival. He’d not asked for details on how Ciri came to be there, nor had he spoken of what was to happen next. He knew… Avallac’h had discussed it at length with him, but that had been a faraway plan at the time. Now that he’d successfully brought in the key to their salvation, the _plan_ seemed… distasteful.

A commotion from the doorway to the great hall caught everyone’s attention and a moment later one of the doors swung open roughly. The sight of the princess striding in had him biting back a sigh. Even from this distance he could see the dirt smudged across her hands, face, and incredibly expensive dress.

The dress might have once been considered a masterpiece the way it artfully displayed her curves, the light material fluttering behind her. Only now the pale blue fabric stood no chance against the dark stains of dirt and grass. Her pale gold hair had possibly been swept into an elegant concoction at one point, but her obvious time working in her garden had it now looking more like a bird’s nest. Her skin a shade darker than what the court would consider proper, from hours in the sun he supposed. Perhaps he should suggest a wide brim hat or parasol to Ge’els.

He would be doing her a favor if he did so.

He’d already noticed the jar of dirt held to her waist and dismissed it as one of her childish oddities, and instead focused on the clench of her jaw and the glare in her eyes. She’d come to meddle, there was no doubt, and Avallac’h was already exhausted from it. He watched as Ge’els touched her elbow as they walked, leaning down to whisper in her ear.

The tightness around her gaze eased some, the result of whatever the Viceroy had said, and Avallac’h felt a touch of curiosity stir within him. He didn’t know the princess well, she kept to her gardens and he to his laboratory. From their handful of interactions, she’d always been borderline improper and quarrelsome. Doted on by Auberon and Ge’els, he’d never known her to _not_ get her way and was certain she planned to interfere as soon as-

“Auberon, by all means, have children. I have always desired to be the doting aunt, and as I’ve equally no wish to be your heir, I fully, expressly, hope you _would_ have children.” Áine said as she came to a stop between himself and Ciri. Immediately he was surrounded by the scent of roses and the air felt… electric. Her words left him feeling rather surprised. “But this is not how it is done.” She continued, leaving him to mentally sigh. There it was. The meddling.

“She has already agreed.” Avallac’h said, drawing that piercing gaze of hers to meet his. He was not the tallest in the room, that spot was reserved for Ge’els, but he towered over the princess enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. She was close enough he could make out the lightest dusting of freckles across her nose. He would definitely remember to speak with Ge’els. Soon the season would start, and she would no doubt be the source of enough gossip as it was without the aid of her scandalous flaws.

“What exactly were the terms you offered the _child_?”

“Give our king an heir, and she may leave.” He said simply, the words feeling like ash in his mouth, but it was what needed to be done.

Her gaze turned into one of wonderment as she shook her head, looking at each of the rooms occupants in turn. “Unbelievable. I can respect a healthy fear of the end of the world… but this level the lot of you are drowning in is… awe inspiring. It truly is.”

“Have you a better plan Your _Highness_.” Avallac’h managed to keep his tone level, despite his irritation. But only just.

She shared a look with Ge’els, a small smirk easing across her rosy lips.

Avallac’h blinked, and quickly ignored the fact he’d just thought of her lips as _rosy_ , just as she shoved the jar of dirt she had been holding into his hands, her smirk turning to him. “Something is wrong with my roses, see to it that this soil sample is tested for the cause.” She then picked up the still silent human’s hand and pulled her gently to her side. “I do have a spectacular plan. A plan involving my brother's most highly regarded wine as I properly welcome a member of the family.” Her gaze flicked over to Auberon who watched silently, his body tense but expression carefully blank.

When her brother offered no objection, like she would have cared anyway, she turned away, tugging Ciri along behind her. “My name is Áine. Your great-great something aunt. I didn’t know Lara myself, only vaguely have I memories of her, but you share her loveliness.”

Ge’els waited for a nod from Auberon before following after the two women, leaving Avallac’h alone with Eredin and the king and in silence. The electric feel of the air had dissipated but the scent of roses remained.

“We cannot wait on this. You must take her to your bed. Tonight, and every night until she is with child.” Eredin demanded with an almost hysterical element to his voice. “Áine has always had a soft heart but when she sees our people are safe, she will see things different. Do not allow her to sway you. Exile her to her chambers if it means you will not have to hear her words and fall into their trap.”

Avallac’h did not particularly like the way Eredin spoke. Áine was a complication yes, but she was still the princess, and it was unlikely she would do something truly against Auberon’s wishes. She was spoiled and outspoken but otherwise harmless.

“I have another matter to see to. Avallac’h, keep an eye on Áine and our new ward.” Auberon said quietly as he stood from his throne.

Avallac’h’s gaze widened in surprise. “Me? Ge’els is already with them.” He hadn’t intended to protest but well… he tended to become lose tongued when genuinely surprised.

“Ge’els is much to fond of my sister to keep her best interest at heart.”

“There is also Eredin…” Regret at the suggestion as soon as the words left his lips spread heavily through his chest. While he was aligned with Eredin in the need to control the fate of Tir ná Lia, he was not aligned with Eredin’s violent nature and now he’d just suggested that nature to invade the princess’s privacy.

“Eredin is welcome to try but we know that she has no patience for him. You on the other hand she gets on with quite well.”

Avallac’h kept his face carefully expressionless but on the inside,  he was a mixture of confusion and horror. He failed to think of a single instance where he ‘got on with quite well’ with Áine. If they were in the others presence at all it was filled with exasperation and impatience on his part or plain ignoring his presence on hers. They’d never shared a smile or held eye contact for more than was necessary, not like she did with Ge’els. But perhaps that was what the king saw as getting on with. At least she’d never demanded his presence be removed as she had with Eredin on more than one occasion.

But he was in a corner, so he nodded to Auberon once and turned to follow his king's command. He’d nearly reached her wing of the palace when he remembered the jar in his hands. Biting back a sigh, he asked it to be delivered to the laboratory by a servant. He wasn’t particularly fond of the idea of the invader in the midst of his life’s works, but it would take a very long time to make the journey himself.

Again, he was without choices, all because of _her_.

He could hear the laughter before he reached her wing. The sound vibrated through the air, a loud contrast to the rest of the palace, and brought him up short a step. He’d never been down here, not really. He’d visited the garden regularly, the practical part of it that is, for whatever herbs he might need for his experiments. But as the palace gardens were vast, he’d never had any desire to venture further into them than was needed. Much like the rest of her wing.

He’d never had any practical need to explore the palace beyond where Auberon needed him. The great hall, Auberon’s study, the library, the laboratory, and his own quarters in the tower near Auberon’s personal wing. Even before Áine’s birth, and now he couldn’t help taking in the details of the décor.

Paintings lined the red walls. Well over half were of her in settings of the water falls below the palace, astride an elegant mare, laying amongst the flowers… and all were signed by Ge’els. Avallac’h assumed she managed to strong arm the Viceroy into abandoning his favorite style as these depictions of her were more the traditional style he himself favored.

When the hallway ended, opening to an older part of the palace with old stone archways covered in vines and various colored roses, he knew the path to the right would lead directly to the gardens, one of several entrances. Straight would lead to Áine’s solar, a place where he’d overheard not even her most favored servants were permitted, a detail he’d promptly forgotten but now that he was faced with the mysterious tower, his curiosity returned in full force.

But the laughter was coming from the path to the left, so with a hand raising to brush the vines from his path he followed the sound. Once he stood before the door he took a moment to gather his thoughts, wondering where he went wrong to where it would lead him, commanded by his king, to now be tasked with babysitting two grown women. He couldn’t make out the words through the richly oiled wooden door, but a burst of feminine laughter had him suspecting there were more than the princess, the child, and the Viceroy.

Of course. Her ladies. Nobles sent to fawn over the princess in order to raise their worthiness in the eyes of the court and make excellent matches. Of course.

He bit back a mental curse at his misfortune and steeled his posture. Before he could delay it any longer he knocked firmly on the door. The laughter continued, but the door remained shut. He tried again, a bit more force behind it this time. The laughter died down and the door opened to reveal a young woman dressed elegantly in golds that matched her hair.

She swept her gaze over his form quickly. “Your Highness, the Sage is here.”

“Blast it Ge’els, that’s a hundred silvers.” The muffled voice of the princess came from somewhere beyond his sight. “He may enter but for his sake as well as ours, pour him some wine.”

Avallac’h had been hoping fervently that she would refuse his entrance. He could have upheld the command by waiting outside her main chamber just as easily, but she’d surprised him by granting him access. The lady before him grinned and left him to enter and close the door on his own. Roses… the scent of them surrounding him once more, had a distinct effect on his heart rate it seemed.

A quick survey of the seating room revealed the princess’s nature was not contained to her own personal appearance. She enjoyed elegant and rich décor, that was not in doubt for elaborate rugs dominated the large room, overstuffed settees and high back chairs were gilded and expensively upholstered. Marbled walls gave way to arched windows where vines of roses swayed gently in the sunlight.

Grand double doors lay open the view of Áine’s bedchambers. The pale gold moldings of tangling vines and flowers weaved across the wall, bordering windows and drawing his gaze to the glass ceiling which dominated the entire room. The most impractical choice if ever there was one and made the mental note to be certain it was warded properly against ice. Not that ice storms were expected for awhile now but… he had to finally shake his train of thought back into place. He was after details at that moment not weather proofing impractical and potentially dangerous ceilings.

As with the sitting room, the bedchamber was richly furnished with settees, chairs, and even more pillows than he thought were necessary. Her bed alone would be impossible to space in his own chamber but in a room this size, it pieced in well. The personality of the two rooms came in with the countless books and plants scattered about every surface from the mantle of the fireplace in each room to her dressing table. An endless tangle of vines and roses crossed the domed ceiling, gathering in the center. Paintings again covered the walls but none of them were of her… in fact they were all of landscapes.

But beyond the disarray of books and plants, a harp stood in a corner draped with scarves, a sign it was rarely played. Pillows were tossed across the floor, chalices and wine bottles sat atop books or directly on the carpet. Platters of cakes, fruits, and smoked meats were resting on pillows in very real danger of sliding to the floor.

And no less than six women lounged across the settees and chairs, and one on the floor, each in various states of eating and drinking. Ciri sat on the dressing table bench, her back to the grand mirror and far removed whether by whose choice, Avallac’h could not say. Her wine sat on the table, but she looked a lot more at ease here than she had the entire time since her apprehension.

Ge’els… Avallac’h arched a brow when he finally dropped his gaze to the other man. The Viceroy lay with his head in the lap of one of the ladies, opening his mouth as she offered him a grape. He spared Avallac’h a brief look, gesturing to an empty chair. He waved off the offered chalice once he was seated, his back straight and ready for the moment to be passed.

The princess however, had yet to be seen. And the silence was uncomfortable. It ought to have bothered him, being the cause of it after all, but he felt it was a small victory. He preferred it this way.

“Did he accept the wine?” Her voice called from a far corner of the bedchamber, drawing his attention there immediately.

He felt his stomach drop at the shadowed form hidden from view by the thin patrician, her dress from before tossed over the top. “No, I did not accept the wine.” He answered for himself. He found it oddly curious that she didn’t have a lady helping her don her next dress, which he watched her shadow lift a hand and pause a heartbeat when he spoke, before pulling the red fabric from its place over the top of the patrician.

“Have you something against wine?” She called out. “I promise, none shall take offense if you indulge.”

He’d yet to drag his gaze from her silhouette, watching as she expertly wrapped trailing sashes around her waist before stepping into view. Whether the swing of her hips, a movement one with a mind could be used convey her ease with his invading presence, was exaggerated or not, he could only guess. One detail stood out above all… her feet were bare. Her childishness knew no bounds.

All during her approach, up until the moment she came to the back of a chair and leaned against it with a relaxed manner, her gaze had not left his. Her thoughts he could only guess at, but he placed them along the line of her hopes in making him uncomfortable enough that he would voluntarily leave.

Well. He arched a brow at her in acknowledgement of her silent challenge. He was a scholar. A problem solver. He could spend years working to decipher a single equation, finding it at last, then promptly moving to the next. He enjoyed challenges.

Currently she must either believe if she continued to pressure him, he would leave. Or he would give in and overindulge, rendering him useless.

“Really Avallac’h, my brother sent you here to be sure I don’t do something to jeopardize Tir ná Lia’s last great hope, but surely you wish to celebrate your success in kidnapping a child, dragging her from her home world and family, dropping her into the bed of a stranger with commands to procreate in order to be granted her freedom.” Her voice had grown ever colder with every word, before she suddenly offered a bright smile. “Come ladies! Let us drink to the true hero of Tir ná Lia. It is not Lara’s heir we must thank, it is Avallac’h! All the glory to him but none of the mental ramifications.”

She reached for the chalice held out to her, never breaking her gaze from his. “Even my brother is paying for this. Do you honestly expect your king to force himself on the very image of his daughter? A daughter, as rumor has it, who was quite close to you.” Here expression twisted into mocking admiration. “Perhaps you’re not as boring as they say. A rather dark side you must have.”

Her words left him breathless, and he struggled to keep his demeanor calm and collected. Every eye, save Ge’els, had danced between the two of them, but now they were locked on him, awaiting his rebuttal. Eagerly wishing to hear his defense against her accusations and the revolting way she depicted his role. But he held his tongue. He would not rise to the bait, though he had underestimated her.

He had expected her to start slow, to make her attack on him gradual until he could no longer tolerate her and left. But instead she had leapt for his throat with bared teeth and claws. A mistake and he mentally smirked at the idea that she would make a terrible Queen.

Rather than agree or disagree he pointedly broke eye contact and looked to the lady nearest him. “Lady Brigid how did your brother's voyage fare?”

He paid little attention to the girl's startled reply, something she only did after glancing her gaze to the princess who he assumed granted her permission. Instead he watched from the corner of his eye Áine gave the smallest smile and made her way over to Ciri. She paused when Ge’els tugged on the bottom of her dress, murmuring something up to her which escaped Avallac’h in the increasing volume of chattering ladies.

Whatever was said, Áine only replied with a wink before coming up to Ciri and picked up a brush from the table. The human girl stared up at her with ready affection, something that surprised Avallac’h as he knew her to be stubborn and mistrustful. But that affection turned into outright joy at whatever the princess whispered to her, setting Avallac’h on edge.

Perhaps it was a good thing he’d come after all.

“Ge’els that is utterly impossible.” A lady exclaimed behind peals of laughter. “An orgasm that last three days! Why I never heard of such a thing!”

Laughter broke out as every eye turned toward Ge’els, including his own. The other man sat up smoothly and took a deep drink of his wine. Avallac’h picked up the fond look the princess sent the other man but other than a smile she did not comment and lowered onto an empty chaise.

“It certainly is possible.” Ge’els said, lifting a hand. “It takes effort and a dedication to meditation but indeed very possible.”

“Sounds exhausting if you ask me.” Áine added, resulting in a wave of laughter. Avallac’h looked between the princess and the Viceroy with a new sense of curiosity that left him… uneasy.

“Oh, but Your Highness… to feel the throes of passion over and over for so long a period? What could be better?” A lady exclaimed, her gaze bright from her overindulgence.

The light in Áine’s gaze however dimmed slightly, becoming faraway as she slowly began running the brush through the waist length hair until a lady hopped up to take over the task. “I can think of a thousand things better than relying on a man for one’s own passion. Such as the lingering scent of the stables. No offense Ge’els.” She said, her smile was small but teasing.

He knew her words were meant as a thin insult towards him when she did not include him in the pardon, but he paid no mind to her childishness. Perhaps he was wrong about his initial assumption on the closeness between the two.

He couldn’t deny they would make a good match. He couldn’t say why Auberon was taking so long in finding someone even more suitable however. Perhaps that was something he could bring up to the king as well. That would certainly put a stop to her interfering. But he was immediately left with a sour feeling.

The mindless and oftentimes inappropriate chatter continued so long as there was wine and food. He lost count of the number of cups Áine had consumed, but as she was now staring at him intently with a quizzical brow from across the room, he assumed it was a rather large amount.

He kept his gaze carefully from meeting hers though he couldn’t help wondering what it was she was thinking of.

Ciri at some point curled up in Áine’s bed, no doubt exhausted from their travels, something Avallac’h admitted wore on him as well, but still Áine did not dismiss her ladies. To be honest, Avallac’h was not even certain how long he was expected to stay in the princess’s company. He probably could have left a while ago when it became apparent that if Áine intended to do something, it would not be in the immediate future. But instead he became entranced with watching the dynamics around him.

Every time a joke was told, every eye would be drawn to her, to see if she would laugh. And every time, whether the joke was actually worthy of laughter, she would follow through. He quickly picked up on the difference between her false laughter and her genuine. But he did give her credit for the effort of making her ladies happy.

What she did not tolerate it seemed, were offhanded comments about the human and her ancestry. A lady noted how close she allowed the girl to her side, whether out of jealousy or outright racism Avallac’h had yet to determine, but Áine had calmly reminded the lady that had Ciri been fully blooded, it would make her no less her niece. A foolish sentiment but then Avallac’h had come to expect such from the princess.

When the light from outside had dimmed, Áine had lit the fresh candles placed throughout her room with a snap of her fingers, and their gathering continued. Avallac’h couldn’t say he was bored, as truthfully, he was learning a lot. Emphasis on lot. He now knew Áine detested  carrots and the color orange, likely because of carrots. Had not had any suitors- ever. Only allowed her ladies to visit once a week, which happened unfavorably to be today. And spent more time in the city than he realized, leaving him wondering if Auberon was aware of that fact.

As far as he himself knew, full escorts were rarely ordered for her by the king, leading him to believe that no… her brother was not aware of her trips into the city.

Eventually the laughter began to die down and Áine finally dismissed the ladies. Their duties done, they left without further word, not even a friendly promise to return, and he was faced with the stark reality that these women were not her friends. They were there for their own ambitions, and while none looked at her with dislike, they were not there because they were anymore fond of her than anyone else. Something she was aware of it seemed as the moment the final woman closed the door Áine’s shoulders dropped just a touch.

Silently, as she passed Ge’els he took her offered hand and followed her into the bedchamber. Avallac’h shifted in his chair as they relaxed in the settee and Áine rested her head on Ge’els shoulder. “Join us Avallac’h so I’m not yelling across all of Tir ná Lia.” She called out.

More out of his cursed curiosity than her command, Avallac’h found himself with his hands braced behind his back, stepping into the princess’s bedchambers. His gaze was drawn from the rather cozy looking couple on the settee to the stars shining through the ceiling. He now saw the appeal of such a architecture choice… still found it impractical but he could admit to the desire of sleeping under the blanket of stars.

“If you're waiting for my brother to summon the child, it seems you’re to be disappointed.” She said wearily and closed her eyes once Avallac’h resumed sitting in the chair closest to the bed. His gaze caught a shadowed portrait that dominated a wall between two tall windows and he could no more prevent the rising of his brows than he could prevent the sun from rising. The frozen forms of Princess Áine and Viceroy Ge’els posed in an embrace of a particular familiarity.

An arm wrapped around her shoulders.

Hers around his waist.

A touching of brows and matching secret smiles.

It was ostentatious and left him more than uncomfortable as he was again left wondering the true nature of their attachment.

When he at last dropped his gaze from the portrait he found Ge’els watching him with a pointed look. His words silent but heard all the same. He was intruding in her space… and yet… His gaze dropped from the other man's to rest on the still form of the princess tucked against his side. He found it odd that she allowed him to witness her in such form when just before with a room full of companions she’d kept her stance regal with the appearance of openness, only to realize she’d truly been closed off the entire time.

Curious, as she must know the vulnerability she exuded in that moment.

“Are you allowing the girl to remain in your bed?” Ge’els filled the silence left open by Avallac’h in his failure to answer.

“Yes Ge’els. She’s a human, not a rat.”

The Viceroy’s brows lowered at her words, a lingering sign of his own reservations about the human race, but he did not offer more protest. Instead he held still as Áine moved away to stand. Avallac’h picked up the slightest movement of Ge’els hand, as if reaching to steady her when she never showed any sign of wavering, though she did pause a moment before walking away.

For some reason, instinct seemed to take over him and he held his breath as she passed behind him, her hands trailing over the back of the chair and he could have sworn he felt the faintest brush of her knuckles in his hair. He released his breath silently once she was of distance away and pulling a loose blanket up over the girls sleeping form.

“Good night Ge’els. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She said quietly, glancing over her shoulder.

Ge’els stood and quickly strode over to her. Once he reached her he lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, bringing a smile to her lips.

“Sleep well, and I shall join you for coffee in the usual spot.” He replied before leaving her, his gaze locked on Avallac’h’s until he passed him by.

With the Viceroy gone, Áine slid between the thick blankets on her bed and laid on her side, facing him with her head held in her palm. “I wonder, if I never dismissed you, how long would you stay unmoving in that chair, so dedicated to being certain that I don’t whisk the child away.” She widened her eyes and gasped. “You might very well become a permanent fixture.”

He knew she was mocking him and his amusement was not her goal, but he felt his lips irresistibly pulled into a small smile anyways. Yes, definitely not the reaction she wanted if the disappearance of her own were anything to judge by.

“I did not take you for one to indulge for so long in your cups. One with such royal responsibilities are looked up upon their citizens, beacons of propriety and righteousness. And yet you lay about gossiping and drinking. I wonder if the lady's families know the influence you expose them to.” He wanted his words to sting as much as hers from before had affected him. But he was feeling dissatisfied when the only sign that he’d succeeded was a disappointed sigh as she eased her head down to her pillow.

“As boring as I expected... You may go, report the nights activities to Auberon, tell him how I leave the city unescorted and gossip about all the lovers the ladies and Ge’els have taken. Do what you like, but do not return to this chamber.”

His mind immediately ruffled indignantly at being called boring. He was more intelligent than the average Aen Elle, accomplished in everything he did whether it be magic, riding, arts- had a close relationship with the king and his advisement was taken seriously in every matter it was asked for.

He mentally shook his head. He was anything but boring.

“As you wish.” He murmured and swiftly stood, resisting the need to stretch muscles that were kept still for too long.

“Your Highness.” She said around a yawn.

The comment broke a bit of his resolve and he narrowed his gaze at her, but she’d already closed her eyes. “As you wish, Your Highness.” He managed in his usual even tone, turning away when she didn’t reply. It would be just like her for her to fall asleep while he followed her command. He told himself over and over that she was just young and spoiled. She couldn't help the way she was… but he also had the desire to wrap his hands around her shoulders and shake some sense into her.

“Avallac’h.”

He froze with his hand on the door handle, his stomach tightening at the unexpected sound of her voice saying his name.

“Don’t forget to report the results of that soil sample. You will find me in the garden in the morning.”

Avallac’h was at the end of his patience, an unfamiliar feeling for him, and he didn’t care if she would see it as a victory, he could take no more without saying something he would regret.

He left without reply.

And found Ge’els leaning against a stone archway.

Avallac’h stood still in the night, breathing in and out while his blood cooled. “She has freckles.” He finally managed to say to the other man, latching onto the one thing he’d wanted to remember.

Ge’els lifted a brow as well as a corner of his lips. “I’ve seen them.”

“She should be wearing a hat whilst gardening.”

Ge’els straightened his stance. “And you wish me to demand her Highness wear one?”

“Yes. She listens to you, no?”

The small smile grew in amusement before Ge’els swept an arm, silently inviting Avallac’h to walk with him. “Her Highness listens only to herself. If you think she needs to change her ways, you will need to find a way to make her change her mind.”

“Me? I am doing no such thing.”

“You are the one who wishes to change her. Therefore, it is your task to undertake.”

“I’m not speaking of changing her personality, her _essence_. Her reputation will be tarnished, putting such flaws on display.”

Ge’els set a hand on his shoulder as they walked. “It is good you have her reputation in mind… but how little you know of your sovereign’s sister… The princess has had freckles all her life, from her earliest days toddling about the garden at her father’s and brother’s knees. And she has yet to be ostracized for it.” His hand hell back to his side. “But if it would put your mind at ease, I will bring the suggestion to her in your stead.”

“Thank you Ge’els. All her life or not, she has a duty to her people. Exemplifying the very best of our qualities and the respect such perfection demands.” Avallac’h said, barely masking his relief as his mind immediately turned to the intimate portrait. “I feel a sense of duty bringing this up. Duty to our king and all of his concerns. Ge’els-” Avallac’h paused to look at his friend as they made their way from Áine’s wing. “What is the tale behind the portrait in her chambers?”

“Is there something wrong? A detail missed? A freckle not added perhaps?”

A corner of Avallac’h’s lips lifted at the well-earned jab and he turned his gaze forward with a roll of his eyes. “Other than the pretentiousness in its size… the intimacy perhaps? It is more than implied.”

Ge’els clasped his hands behind his back. “Ah. There is a tale indeed behind that painting. The _intimacy_. I have loved her Highness all her life, Avallac’h. Such things are easily captured on canvas if one has talent.”

Avallac’h was not certain if that was telling or not as he was very aware that there could be many forms of love. He shook his head, mainly at himself for his own foolishness. It was not his business as he was certain Auberon would be well aware of any attachment between his sister and the Viceroy.

He did not ask for more as he doubted he would be given more details anyways did but nodded his head in respect when it came time for Ge’els to depart for his estate, and for Avallac’h to close himself in his laboratory.

There on the table in the center of the room sat the jar of dirt and the princesses’ final command ringing through his memory. He readied himself for a long night, for he knew a challenge when it was voiced, and he did not falter in his resolve to rise up and prove her wrong.

 

 


	2. Perfectly Imperfect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, liberties taken with anything cannon to make it fit where we wanted it to. Having fun with what was already in existence

* * *

 

 

The main entrance to the garden, the one everyone else used that is, was vacant when Áine arrived the morning after Avallac’h’s success in delivering the prophesized child to her brother. She pressed her hands to her hips with a huff, the thin material giving easily beneath the press of her fingers, and glanced around for any sight of the sage, but all she caught were the barest signs of a rising sun chasing back the stars and an otherwise shadowed garden.

It was unlikely he would venture in without knowing specifically where to find her, after all she knew exactly who entered the garden and where they wandered. She wanted to know who broke the stem of so much as a daisy and received a report each evening from Selly divulging such details. As for Avallac’h, his presence was rarely reported and when he was, he only ever ventured to the small field of herbs, she was certain of it and she could see them from where she stood.

Shadowed but empty.

If she’d managed to wake at a sensible hour after an evening of drowning in one’s cups while seeing to social obligations, surely, he could manage the same early hour… she knew the process for testing the health of soil, knew it would have to process for hours, leaving her brothers advisor plenty of time to sleep before the results would be ready… Did he believe she was not serious about the results? Did he think to defy her with petty games of see-how-long-the-princess-will-wait?

Áine turned her gaze from the garden and back to the bridge that would lead to the palace and pulled her soft wool wrap tight around her arms to ward off the early spring chill that lingered at such early hours.

Áine Órlaith Rhiannon Muircetach, Crown Princess of all Aen Elle waited for no one.

With a determined tilt to her chin she stormed the silent palace with purpose.

The path to the laboratories was long and rather confusing if one did not have intimate knowledge of every hallway and staircase. Though it was rare she would find herself with particular need of the facilities, she could find them with her eyes closed.

The heels of her sensible slippers clicked clearly on the marble floor in what should have been obvious warning to anyone that her patience was already thin, and every effort should be made to not irk her further. More than one servant could already be found going about their morning duties and each bowed their respects as she floated past, nodding her acknowledgement. After she passed there were shared glances and shrugged shoulders before going on to their delegated tasks, promising to theorize just what had given her Royal Highness a stormy expression later when they were done.

Royal guards reaching the end of their shift were surprised at the sudden appearance of their princess yet were quick to snap to attention, their right fists coming to their chest with thumps.

Áine passed by the gallery, great hall, and eventually the library and Auberon’s offices where he spent most of his time, past the entrance to his private wing and turned down the hall which would lead to the laboratory. She was now in an older part of the palace, though the architects had done well in their seamless additions over the centuries, the age could still be seen in the darkening of the stone, felt in the old magic in the air.

She paused before the tall wooden door and glanced to her right, to the stairs that wound their way into a tower. Avallac’h’s personal quarters. Would he likely be there rather than the laboratory? Logic would say yes, however the ache in her leg whispered for her to check the laboratory first. Decision made, she opened the door and slipped inside.

Sturdy pillars rose from the stone floor to support the wide ceiling  as well as give home to countless candle sconces, all of which were melted low and extinguished. Since the sun had yet to offer much aid, Áine easily lit them, pleased that there was still wicking to light.

The facilities were about what she had imagined. All manner of alchemy and chemistry equipment organized neatly on shelves across one wall. Another set of shelves labeled with ingredients which upon a closer inspection were everything from salt to what was labeled as _ghoul brain_ floating in a preservative. Grisly yet necessary she was sure.

Then there were the books. And the papers. The rolled scrolls tied and placed in racks. The sketches pinned to a long slat hung on the wall. Everything was in its place and entirely functional. Nothing about the room had changed in the one hundred and fifty-three years since she’d last ventured in there. With a shake of her head she turned to make her way in further.

The primary work table was indeed as she had expected it, the proper equipment doing their proper function in testing the acidity of her rose’s soil but judging by the color of the sample, it was done. With a sigh she cut off the spell keeping the flame burning and turned toward the darkest area of the room. If nothing in here has changed then that would mean…

Indeed. The curious little bed tucked away among bookshelves. She’d thought it an odd addition to a lab facility at the time but now that she could see a dark form stretched along the length, it made complete sense that there would be a bed. After all she had fallen asleep countless times at her own work, and while she did not know the sage well, it was a well-known fact that he was an avid and dedicated scholar. Seeking out knowledge was consuming and if while she couldn’t imagine being able to sleep among the fumes and scents of such a place, for Avallac’h, it seemed more than natural.

Treading carefully, Áine slowly approached the bed, tilting her head in curiosity as she stepped around the small table with an open book, a journal, quill and ink pot. A plate with an apple core and bread crumbs sat on the threadbare seat of a chair, his robe lay over the high back, and a pitcher of water sat under the table.

Stopping at the head of the bed she took a moment to wrap an arm around the tall post of the bedframe, her wrap sliding down a shoulder. With her sharp gaze taking in every detail, Áine examined the sleeping form of Avallac’h. Where he certainly seemed boring while awake, it seemed he was anything but boring while asleep. An arm tossed up and over his head, trapping his long slate colored hair to the single white pillow. She took in the gently parted lips and the long lashes before moving on to his bare chest, lean and covered in Aen Saevherne markings… markings which disappeared below a single while sheet and blue blanket resting disappointingly high on his waist.

Áine shook her head just as her lips curled into a wide smile. She was surprisingly curious, not only to know how far his markings went, but to know just how adventurous he was when it came to states of sleeping dress.

And he seemed to be quite the sleeper. She could wake to the sound of Selly brushing aside the vines outside her suite, and yet here she’d opened and closed a creaky door, lit candles, wandered around with clicking steps and even jostled the bed when she leaned against it. And nary a sound from the man.

“Avallac’h.” She said in a level tone and held her breath as she watched him. No movement save for the steady rise and fall of his chest. Her smile turned a level of wicked she only reserved for when she posed for Ge’els and she slowly leaned down. Softly she set two of her fingers to the long tattoo beginning just below his far shoulder and drew them along the curling length. She held her breath, excitement widening her eyes a touch just as it sang through her blood when he turned his head in the same direction of her touch.

Oh, but it was _fun._

When his dark brows tightened in a small wrinkle she managed to resist the urge to smooth out the line and instead straightened with a sigh. As fun as it was testing such limits, she had a full day ahead and he was already setting her back.

“Avallac’h.” She said loudly. “If you don’t wake this instant I’ll have to tell my brother about your lack of dress before not only his sister but the Crown Princess of all Aen Elle.”

During her empty threat - well maybe not so empty, she truly had yet to decide - Avallac’h had opened his swirling mix of blue green eyes with a snap and stared up at her. She kept her expression as serious as she could manage, something that was near on impossible with the comical way he rushed to pull his coverings up his chest. So _prudish_ when he was awake.

“Disappointing. That would have been fun to tell Auberon. Now get up, you were to meet me in the garden nearly an hour ago.”

He drew a free hand down his face, a glare just at the edges of his eyes. “What time is it?” He asked in a sleep heavy voice that had the surprising effect in making her heart skip a beat.

“Time is an illusion, a constraint we shackle ourselves to in our need to make order out of chaos.” Áine’s gaze was caught by the only out of place items in the room, and her wicked grin came back. She saw the sudden hesitation in his gaze when she sent that grin to him before bending to pick up his articles of clothing.

First his alchemical apron, she tossed it over his legs. Next came his shirt. His trousers. Then meeting his gaze she dangled his under cloths from the tip of her finger. “Ah, hypothesis formed, evidence discovered, theory confirmed. Lecture date to be set.” She couldn’t resist pushing him further and dragged her gaze down from his. Her intent made obvious he lunged up and snatched the article of clothing from her finger.

“If her _Highness_ would grant me a moment, I’ll make myself presentable.” His voice was back to normal and she had to give him credit for his ability to speak without the chilling tone she knew waited just beneath the surface, and for a moment she considered denying his request.

But she smiled graciously and stepped away, stopping to examine the book he’d been reading while sounds of clothing rustled behind her. “I find it very disappointing you know.” She sent a look over her shoulder when she knew sufficient time had passed, to see him tucking the tails of his shirt into his untied breeches. He jerked his chin in clear demand for her to look away which she refused with a raised brow forcing him to turn his back to her. “How very disappointing that you wear under cloths. Ge’els I believe started the trend of leaving such an outdated and unnecessary practice behind.”

He ignored her comment, though she didn’t truly expect him to reply, and sat on the bed to pull on his boots. When he stepped around the bed to reach for his robes she picked them up from the chair and held them out, her gaze meeting his as a pleasant scent she couldn’t quite name surrounded her for a moment.

“Thank you.” Avallac’h said politely and took them in hand, perhaps overly cautious in avoiding touching her, and slipped on the heavy folds of cloth.

“I live to serve.” She whispered with a wink and began to make her way toward the exit.

“Princess, the results?” He called after her wearily.

Áine came to a stop at the door and turned to face him, her memory flicking back to his departure from her rooms the night before. She’d gotten under his skin in the end, knew it in the way he’d shut the door. Easily he could have left with utter silence, a respectful click as the latch slid into place, just as it had when her ladies had left.

But not with him. He hadn’t slammed the door, but the echo he left behind was damn well close. A crack in his control and he’d wanted her to know he found her more than mildly _irksome_. She’d smiled in the darkness for a long time afterward, that sound resonating through her blood like the sound of a racing horse through the countryside. The rush of waterfalls calling her to dive down with them.

She wanted more moments that stayed with her and made her blood sing… more cracks in his control. She could easily have the discussion here, where they and the results were already present. But that wouldn’t be nearly as much fun.

“I said you were to meet me in the garden to discuss this, that is where the problem is after all.” She lifted her wrap back around her shoulders. “I have much to accomplish today and you’ve already set me back, Avallac’h. I’m beginning to wonder at my brother’s high regard for you when you’re just so…” She paused to inhale a deep cleansing sigh and let it out slowly with a sad shake of her head. “-lacking in efficiency.”

“You have _much_ to accomplish.” He stepped close to her, his hands resting on his hips while emotions briefly played across his face. There was disbelief and ah yes, a healthy dose of annoyance, before he schooled his brows in to lowering though his jaw remained tense.

“Avallac’h, I managed to wake myself, dress myself, braid waist length hair into all these gorgeous yet heavy coils atop my head and even apply a lovely amount of makeup, arrive at the _far_ entrance to the gardens only to find the sun rising and no laboratory hermit present.” She shook her head mockingly. “I desire a horse for Ciri, a stroll through the Grand Gallery, and an invitation to the theater. Now I shall have to forego the theater and send a very a polite letter to Lord and Lady whoever, because going means I will have zero time to prepare for dinner with my brother and your king. Really Avallac’h, a bit more consideration would be appreciated.”

She lifted her smile to him slightly. “Though I did enjoy the view this little transgression brought me. The morning was yet to be a total loss it would seem.” His gaze narrowed, his only movement through her speech, but it was satisfactory enough for her to brighten her smile ever more before turning and leaving the room at last.

* * *

 

As the pale, gem detailed dress, trailed after the quickly disappearing princess, Avallac’h was left scrubbing his hands over his face and striding toward the work bench. His thoughts snapped between shouting after her that if she wanted her damned results then she could have them here, or completely ignoring her command, instead sending a servant with a well worded reply of the tests.

He lifted the beaker, glaring at its contents and snapping up a dropper. As he worked, the scent of roses lingered, and his angry thoughts of the spoiled princess shifted to the rather pleasant dream still at the edges of his mind.

On a world far away, he had been deep in an ancient ruin, cataloging the findings of an extinct civilization and absorbing their knowledge as his own. The wind had eased through the fallen walls, tugging at his hair and robes while his coal stained fingers swept across the pages of his journal. The scent carried in the wind at first had been difficult to place, but now that he thought back, could it have been roses? It would make sense if that had been the moment of Áine’s arrival.

But then there was the soft sensation across his chest… he clearly remembered the shiver the touch had sent down his spine. His dream self had absently brushed at his chest but thinking back now… Avallac’h sent a look toward the open door… a dawning horror that nearly rivaled the moment he’d realized just whose voice had been drawing him into wakefulness.

She wouldn’t…

But Avallac’h was faced with the reality that he had no idea just what Áine would and wouldn’t do.

With a clenched jaw he quickly turned from the room and followed after the infuriating princess, his long stride consuming the distance. He was disappointed he didn’t come upon Áine before she reached the garden, for he had several choice words for the child in regard to appropriate behavior befitting someone of her rank and title, and he was just incensed enough to skip the protocol of reporting her actions to Auberon.

She must have quite the stride herself for he did not come upon her. He reached the arched bridge stretching from the palace, over a chasm created by the waterfall just to the right of the castle, and delivering him to the grand expanse of gardens, his pace never slowing until in the distance he saw the figures of Áine and Ge’els.

Their proximity startled him into a calmer pace, allowing him to pick apart the details. The Viceroy stood tall, elegantly robed as ever with his arms held loose behind his waist. A fond smile eased across his lips as he gazed down at Áine, listening to whatever she was saying. As for Áine, she lifted both hands and brushed the man’s grey hair over his shoulders before running her hands down his chest and adjusted the layered belt and sash around his waist.

Avallac’h was reminded of the other horrific moment when the princess had held his under cloths aloft, a teasing grin and sparkling gaze, and his lingering anger was stoked into renewed flames. He didn’t even bother focusing on her announcement that Ge’els and - possibly even herself - apparently were undergarment free. It was likely a off handed comment meant to ruffle his proprieties, but she gave him enough to consume his thoughts.

Of course, that didn’t stop his eyes from traveling down her silhouette, lingering a touch too long around her hips as the gentle folds of her dress gave little away to what lay hidden beneath.

He knew the two were aware of his presence for Ge’els met his gaze for a moment with the slightest of nods, while Áine pointedly ignored his arrival, even after he came to a stand beside Ge’els.

“I told you this sash would look perfect on you.” She murmured up to him, giving his stomach a pat and turning away to walk into the slowly brightening garden.

“Just as I said the same about that dress.” Ge’els replied, meeting Avallac’h’s look and nodding after the princess.

“Ge’els, have you ever known me to _not_ pull off a dress? Or was all that ‘you have perfect form my love’ empty flattery?” She sent a teasing look over her shoulder.

“You, as well as I have pulled off many of your dresses my dear.” Ge’els replied without missing a step.

“Ge’els!” Áine exclaimed, coming to a stop and turning to look at him with wide eyes. She brought up a hand to hide her mouth before mock whispering. “He’s _right there_ , and you know how shocked he gets about such things.” She dropped her hand and shook her head sadly. “He has such young, innocent ears, you mustn’t speak so before him. Now he will be imagining me disrobing at the most inopportune times.”

Avallac’h was beyond frustrated with her antics and had to clutch his hands behind his back to keep from running a hand over his face.

“Ah yes. Avallac’h. Which reminds me.” Ge’els murmured and nodded toward Avallac’h himself before focusing back on the now curious Áine.

Knowing what was about to come he thought he’d groaned aloud. The only reason he knew he hadn’t was for sure it would have drawn some teasing remark from the princess. He managed a small glare at Ge’els before taking a seat on a stone bench, mentally preparing for the coming tantrum.

“There is… talk, my dear. And as someone who cares for your happiness above all else, it has fallen upon me to speak to you about the… concerns.” Ge’els ran a hand down her wrap covered arm before cupping it around her elbow.

“A duty you take very serious, I know. I shall hear these concerns.” Áine spoke with that ever present smile in her voice. “Should I sit for this? It sounds so serious, I’m sure I must.” She turned toward the bench where Avallac’h sat, meeting his gaze. “Avallac’h, may I sit with you as Ge’els shares these concerns? I must warn you though, I’m a hand snatcher when I’m distressed.”

Avallac’h felt as if the situation couldn’t get much worse, leaving him to lean forward and brace his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together. “It is your garden Your Highness, your bench.” He said in a level voice.

“True, but I do like to be polite.” She settled herself close to his side, taking a moment to spread the skirt of her dress out.

He tried not to think about the fact that the fabric fluttered down to rest on the toe of his boot, that the scent of roses was almost overwhelming. Taking a deep breath, he rolled his eyes toward Ge’els, signaling that he was ready for the man’s lesson on delegating his concerns onto others rather than dealing with them himself. He understood loud and clear.

“I have thought all night on how to tell you this…” Ge’els reached out to run a finger along Áine’s chin. “You have freckles. All across your nose, and there is concern such… marks… will make you the subject of debilitating gossip.”

There was a moment where Avallac’h could only hear the beat of his heart as Áine’s hand did indeed, just as she had warned him though he hadn’t believed her, reached out to lightly hold his forearm.

“Avallac’h… is this true?” She turned to look at him, bringing him to drag his gaze from Ge’els to her sweetly concerned face. “Do I have freckles?”

He barely caught the sneer before it could lift his lip, and he tore his gaze from hers. Of course, she would mock him. He would have preferred a tantrum. “You know very well of the flaws you put on display.” He couldn’t resist the quip. If Ge’els would not do his duty in reigning her in, then he was left with no choice. Spoiling, _coddling_ her further would not encourage her to better herself, to better their people. “A simple sun hat would remedy the marks.”

She tightened her finely boned and ring free hand around his arm before removing her touch. “Gentlemen… as you know, my father King Thidrek died when I was very young, leaving me with shockingly few memories of him.”

She sighed and braced her hands on the stone bench, her fingers curing around the smooth edge and Avallac’h was drawn to look at her, feeling how out of place her… stillness was. From the moment she whirled into the great hall just hours before, stained with dirt and grass and whisked the elder blood child away, he’d not known her to be still. All through his memory, from her as a child hiding beneath Auberon’s desk to the time she rode her mare into the palace, he’d not one memory of her being still.

It left him uneasy and he looked to Ge’els to see if he felt the same. The other man however watched and waited.

“But there is one memory. Just one, which I can play through my mind as clearly as I see you before me.” Her gaze turned back to his and a wave of confusion and apprehension swam through his mind.

Thoughts of what all this had to do with freckles, and was she drawing on dramatics to mock him ever more… he had always been rather good at reading people. To read their hidden emotions and their intents, granting him the ability to turn and situation into his advantage, but at the moment all he could read from the princess was that unsettling stillness.

“Here in the farthest reaches of these gardens, there is a time ravaged ruin of stone and vine where very few are permitted to wander. The sun shines just so, pink and white roses growing wild as they may rather than being carefully cultivated, as they always have in that particular place. That is where this memory of my father echoes, and just as it promises to do today, the sun was shinning brightly. I remember the warmth of it spread across my skin as my father danced with me, spinning me around and around, my feet atop his and our hands clasped together. And then in a dizzy mess of laughter and tangled hair we collapsed to the grass to catch out breath. My father leaned on his side, smiling at my giggles, his eyes so identical to Auberon’s tracing my features.”

“And he had these words for me: ‘You’ve the constellations upon your nose little one. It is thanks to you that a man such as I am able to kiss the stars.’ And he then proceeded to send me into a frenzy of laughter as he speckled me with kisses…” Her gaze turned startling cold as she finished her tale. “You must forgive this flawed princess of yours if she chooses to remain true to her father and his memory rather than give care to your equally flawed opinions and judgements.”

Without waiting for a word from Avallac’h, and truly he had none to offer anyways in that moment, she lifted a hand to Ge’els who quickly took her offering as she stood. “I know we said we would have coffee in our usual spot, but it has been delayed and I know you’ve your duties waiting for you.” She said with her usual smiling voice.

Avallac’h was beyond… bewildered? How did he end up the one feeling guilty when he’d done nothing wrong? But as he watched the concern playing about Ge’els expression and the lingering stiffness in Áine’s posture, that was exactly what he was feeling. He mentally shook it away and rolled his eyes away from them. She may have out maneuvered him with the emotional story of her father, but she’d given him plenty to be irate about.

The intimate invasion of his privacy for one.

Ge’els gently wrapped his hands around her elbows and pressed a kiss to the bridge of her nose before releasing her and stepping back. “Avallac’h.” He said with a nod and a meeting of gazes.

“Ge’els.” He replied with the same respect though truly he was exasperated with the man. He made no attempt to keep her from running wild and for the life of him he could not understand why. Did he not want the best for her? For Auberon? He just did not know, and he wished for the days where such thoughts had not plagued him.

For so long the princess had been someone else’s problem. But it seemed as if none had been paying her the attention and regard they should have, and it was a wonder that she was welcomed anywhere. Perhaps she was invited _for_ such reasons. What scandalous oddity would she leave the peerage to discuss over their teas and cakes? Would she amuse them with the dirt under her fingernails and the grass in her hair?

“Go on the Avallac’h, Ge’els is gone so speak freely.”

He was pulled from his musings by the coldness returning to her voice and she had quite captured his attention. The stillness of her was gone, replaced with the simmering anger layered in her voice. The sun now shone behind her, turning her hair blindingly bright and outlining her curved silhouette through the thin fabric of her dress. He had to stand and step around her to read the seriousness of her permission for himself.

Freely he would speak indeed.

“I’ll accept such liberty by bringing up the utter invasion of my privacy.” He clasped his hands behind his back and stared down his nose at the princess just as she folded her arms high on her chest.

“You live in a castle Avallac’h.” Her voice was dripping with derisiveness as her gaze met his unblinkingly. “A castle I might add that does _not_ belong to you-“

“Correct you are, it belongs to the Aen Elle. The people as a whole, paid for by their taxes-“

“And built with the blood of _slaves._ Do not pretend as if you have any more right to it. As I was saying Espane. There is no such thing as privacy here. You chose to sleep in a room made public to the castle occupants.” She pointed a finger to her chest and leaned forward a hint. “I have the right to demand who can enter a room and who cannot.” She turned that finger on him and jabbed it into his chest and his eyes narrowed. “You have no such rights. Want to sleep naked? Then do so in your own estate.”

“It is no one’s right to invade a space as you have mine. It is one thing to happen upon me in a vulnerable state by accident, but it is another to _linger_ , to mock and tease. It’s as if you have no sense of propriety at all.” He bit out, brushing her hand to the side.

She gasped and brought herself up straight, her eyes dancing flames of silver fire. They were fascinating, and no doubt had cowed those of lesser resolve, but he knew when he was right and would not be swayed by her misplaced anger.

“Propriety? You want to speak of propriety? You stole a child from her family Avallac’h! And now you’re going to dangle her freedom just out of her reach, forcing her to my brother's bed!”

He turned away, pacing several steps down the path in an attempt to fight back his need to shout back as she’d just done. “Their child will save Tir ná Lia.” He managed in a calm voice and turned back to face her. She turned to him, her hands pulling her wrap from her shoulders and tossing it to the bench. “Their child will save us all.”

“Their child would be an abomination! The result of incest and rape.” She tossed a hand into the air. “I feel as if I’m speaking to an insane person and am on the verge of going mad myself.” Her huff of laughter was empty of humor. “You have to see how wrong this is.”

“My actions and the reasons behind them are not what is in question. I answer to my king and I have done _nothing_ which was not sanctioned by him. Can you say the same? Does he know of your loose frolicking with the Viceroy and the open way you discuss certain matters as if you have intimate knowledge of them?” He took a step toward her, finding strength in the righteousness of his words. “You have a duty to your people, and this is not it.”

She narrowed her own gaze and stepped close to him. “Why don’t you specifically outline just what my duty is.”

“To be the beacon, inspiring all the Aen Elle to uphold the standards set to them by their sovereigns. We did not become as great as we are in everything we are by rolling in the grass and imbibing glass after glass of wine.”

She smirked up at him, a look that had him blinking in surprise. “Come now Avallac’h, that isn’t what you want to say now is it? I told you to speak freely. So… tell me, as the Crown Princess of every Aen Elle, from the smallest babe to the wisest grandmother… what is my duty to them?” Her voice had dropped to an almost seductive level.

“To bond with someone suitable in which to further your father’s bloodline, securing the future of the realm. Something you have yet to take seriously.” He said stiffly, his heart beating wildly within his chest, though the cause was lost on him in the moment.

Her smile widened into and overly sweet expression. “There it is. My duty is to be a brood mare… There was no need for pretty speeches as I have a healthy respect for one’s ability to be direct. It will however shock you to know Avallac’h… but you’re hardly the revolutionary if you believe you’re the first to bring this up to me.” She stepped ever closer, her chest a breath from brushing against him as she leaned up to whisper in his ear. “For a moment I thought you were different… how exciting that would have been. But no.” She lowered back down, her gaze running over his face, her breath brushing his neck before meeting his once more. “You are just as dull as the rest of them, and as none of them are here any longer, I would be wary Espane.”

“Is that a threat?” He asked in a voice he hardly recognized as his own.

“Ask my brother. I know that is where you will go after this chat.”

He wrapped his hands around the length of his robes and snapped them to the side as he stepped around her.

“My results Espane.” She said coldly.

“There were no anomalies in the soil… Your Highness.” He said through clenched teeth without stopping his exit. He was sleep deprived, hungry, frustrated, and in dire need to talk to Auberon. To lay every mess his sister was making at his feet and step away. He was a fool for allowing himself to fall into these thoughts and more than done with the situation. _She_ was not his problem, and in a few moments, he would wash his hands of her once more and his life could go back to normal.

* * *

 

Avallac’h had hoped the time it would take to reach Auberon’s expansive study would have been sufficient in allowing his blood to cool. It was not, he found after he strode through the open double doors and began to pace the length of the room. He missed the brief look Auberon lifted to him over the letter he was reading before dropping his eyes back down.

“She leaves the city unescorted. Is constantly dirty. Tries to twist our efforts to fight the frost. Has freckles, Auberon. She threatened me.” Avallac’h waved a hand out as he continued to pace. “She brandished my underclothes about as if it were perfectly _normal_ for even a servant do such a thing much less a princess. Respectfully, I must ask. Just what is the nature of her relationship to the Viceroy?” He finally came to a stop before the king’s desk, his hands set to his hips as he waited for a reply.

Auberon continued to read though he did lift a single brow. “A close one.”

“Are they to form a union? If so, I have to say I don’t believe he is the right choice… he gives no care to her… busyness.” Avallac’h said with a shake of his head.

His comment did grant him a full look from Auberon who leveled the same eyes as Áine’s on him. “Busyness?” He inquired.

“Yes, her constant state of being it seems. Busy, everywhere at once. It’s overwhelming and Ge’els is fine with it. She wants to make comments about disrobing? He follows right after her and adds on his own comments. As I said - he would not do.”

Auberon sat back in his chair, running a finger along his chin. “You say my sister… threatened you.” He said in a tired voice that caught Avallac’h’s attention from his own ravings for the moment. Indeed his king looked… harried. And his sister was doing little to ease the worries and burdens of a king. Likely she gave no care to them.

Avallac’h dropped into a nearby chair, comfortable enough with his relationship to Auberon to slump a bit. “She invited me to speak freely, knowing she had goaded me with her before mentioned busyness. Feeling a sense of duty to you and your image as well as Princess Áine’s, I took up her offer. In the end she twisted my words, as she always does, and threatened me. I have no worry of such empty words however.”

“Avallac’h… Áine has always been such as she is.” Auberon said in that steady voice of his, saying much with as few words as necessary.

“Yes, I suppose she is. But she was always out of view, our paths rarely crossing.”

“I see.” Auberon fell silent a moment before picking up his letter once more. “I will speak with her. And as apologies for the undue stress, I’d like to make a change to your duties.”

Avallac’h sat up straight. “The apologies are not needed, but if you’ve need of my attentions, they are yours as always.”

“I’m in need of a Private Secretary. You can begin immediately with the use of the previous secretaries’ desk behind you. Take the stack of letters from the corner of my desk and begin there.”

Avallac’h swept his gaze over the grand desk to find a rather tall stack of fine looking stationary. Easing from the chair he transferred the letters to his new desk. “What are they for?” He asked mainly to himself as he was certain he would figure it out once he began to read them.

“Written petitions for Áine’s hand. They arrive daily.”

A muscle in Avallac’h’s neck cramped he turned his head so quickly to look at the king. “I beg your pardon?”

Auberon lifted a hand in a listless wave. “You have high regard for the requirements a suitor for my sister should have. I trust you in your diligence in seeing to this important matter.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.” Avallac’h said with a gentle incline of his head and turned back to the desk and tall stack of waiting envelopes. When he sat in his chair, he reached for the first envelope but stared at the name scrawled across with unseeing eyes. This was not the turn he’d expected his discussing of Áine to take. He’d hoped to transfer his knowledge to Auberon before retreating to first the kitchens for food and then the laboratory where he’d quickly loose himself in his studies. But this… this was a travesty.

“Avallac’h.” Auberon said quietly.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Avallac’h said absentmindedly.

“He must make her happy. Of all the qualities you believe he should possesses, that one is the most important.”

“Of course.” Avallac’h replied, for what else was there for him to say? How was he supposed to know who would make that childish woman happy? He supposed this confirmed that Ge’els was not a serious contender though the extent of their familiarity was still unknown.

He shook off the thoughts as well as his hunger and began to sort through the names on the envelopes, alphabetizing them as he went. He was familiar with each of the named, each of them more than expected and he was already forming opinions. He worked quickly, ready to be done with this unexpected and unwanted task, that is until he reached an envelope near the bottom and all he could do was stare.

Caranthir Ar-Feiniel.

Avallac’h sighed deeply.

One of his greatest achievements. His protégé, powerful… exceptional. And he was of a mind to win the hand of a princess.

* * *

 

The sigh Áine heaved as she laced her arm through Ciri’s was heavy. Quietly she led the girl from the dining hall, leaving her brother seated at the table after a long and painfully awkward dinner. As someone who cared for the both of them, each for her own reasons, Áine had done what she could to put them at ease. An impossible task already when your brother is Auberon and your guest is a frightened child unlucky with the burden of her birth.

To watch her brother gaze continually through the nearest window, never touching his meal, was absolute agony for Áine. Ciri managed to smile and answer her questions about her home world though there was an emptiness in her eyes and Áine wanted nothing more than to invade that man’s _privacy_ and shout at him until she was hoarse.

Not that it would do any good. His stubbornness was near on Auberon's level.

“I mean to find you and my brother a way out of this Ciri.” Áine said quietly as she led the girl to her room, one in Áine’s own wing to both of their relief. “Auberon is a good man trying to do what he has been told will save his people. Until then however, you are in need of clothing and supplies and if you’ve a like mind, I’ll find you tomorrow to see to these needs personally...”

They neared Ciri’s new rooms, but Áine continued to speak quietly. “I’m certain you have a guard on you at all times, even though you wouldn’t be able to see them, but please make yourself as at home as you can. And-” The two came to a stop before the door to Ciri’s room and turned to face each other, Áine linking their hands together. “I’m always available to you. Please know that I am on your side and using my voice and outspoken nature to fight this terrible thing _Avallac’h_ is forcing on you and Auberon.”

“I’m relieved to have you Áine… this is already unbearable as it is, but the thought of being here, without any allies at all…” The beautiful girl dropped her gaze and turned toward the door with a shake of her head.

“The castle is yours to explore, and tomorrow a welcoming gift will arrive.” Áine said, her hands falling together to clasp at her waist. “Rest well.”

Ciri nodded silently, closing the door between them.

Áine whirled away feeling frustrated, useless, and in serious need to speak to her brother. And she knew where he would be… after all she was certain Avallac’h had much to say about her. Well she had just as much to say as well.

Instead of going directly to the old solarium, Áine took a moment to stop by her chamber and snatched up a fresh bottle of wine as well as two glasses and finished making her way to the tower, shivering as the thin material offered no protection against the nights chill. Built long before the time of her grandfather, it was pure stubbornness keeping the ancient building together. Well stubbornness and old magic perhaps.

Nature had taken ahold of it centuries ago, a reminder of its indomitable force even against the great Aen Elle. It was honestly more vine than anything. Áine felt at peace once she stepped through its doorway, taking a moment to draw a deep breath. She followed the stairs up, her hand holding the two glasses twisted a finger in the soft fabric of her dress, lifting the skirt to keep from tripping on it.

It took a great deal of willpower to keep her pace steady when it came to stairs and mostly she avoided them if they were the spiraling into the sky type, but she could not be swayed from her tower. It was a reflection of herself… or who she wished to be.

Steady and strong… wild and beautiful. Shaped by whatever the season had in store. Leaves of gold and amber in the autumn. Glittering snow and ice in the winter. Each more beautiful than the one before in an endless cycle.

It was where she watched the stars dance across the sky, dreamed of traveling amongst them like the unicorns. She kept her most prized possessions within, things that were utterly her. Áine the orphan, raised by a brother who, though he loved her, was unable to fill the emptiness such a life as theirs had created. Where she wrote her deepest dreams and desires in her journals. Imagined stories where she was a simple florist falling in love with the baker down the street… or completing her studies as Aen Saevherne and discovering untold wonders.

Endless dreams of true love and adventure.

She’d even had imaginings of passing this place on to a daughter of her own… or even a son. She ached for a family someday, of laughter ringing through the marbled palace, out across the gardens. Of encouraging the inspirations of their dreams and telling them how proud she was of the beautiful people they became. She thought a family would have happened for her by now, and while she cared deeply for Ge’els, she would settle for nothing less than absolute passion filled love.

 

But more than a sanctuary filled with ancient magic and bits of her soul, it was where Auberon and she could speak as the brother and sister they were. There were the hidden hot springs below the castle, knowledge of them privy only to herself and him, but Auberon had never met her there. On days when the ache in her leg was near on unbearable, she would slip away through the passage below the tower, immersing herself in the hot pool of water, soothing away the pain.

She never hesitated to be the doting sister to Auberon no matter their audience and he never rejected her affection in such places, but here in the tower he held back… less.

As she neared the top most floor, her wine bottle swinging in her hand and her leg on fire, she felt her wavering anger igniting into full flame. “Auberon.” She growled the moment she stepped into view to find him in his usual spot, the window seat covered in hand stitched pillows and patchwork blankets. His long silver hair glinted in the moonlight coming in through the window behind him while the candle light accentuated the shadows across his face.

He watched her as she thumped down the wine glasses and poured them each a glass. “Keep him as your advisor if you must Auberon, but do not pursue this madness of his.” Áine said in a snapping voice, holding out the glass to Auberon as she took a drink from her own. “It is agony to me to see you like this.

He accepted the glass and took a drink before leaning back against the pillows. He didn’t look relaxed, but he did look more at ease than he had at dinner. “Present me with another option Áine… We have no access to the Gate of the Worlds. Avallac’h can lead a few to safety to escape the White Frost, but only a few.”

“We could try not abandoning our home. Perhaps Ciri is the one to defeat the frost.” Áine locked her gaze with his.

“She is a human.”

“And a child. Your child.”

Auberon cut his eyes to the side, a sign that she’d struck a nerve, encouraging her in her disparagement of the sage. “I fail to see why you listen him. Who even is he? To claim ownership of our home, to tell us how to live our lives?”

His gaze returned to hers. “Avallac’h has many thoughts on you as well. You threatened him?”

Áine threw out an arm, barely remembering it was the hand holding her glass of wine. “He called me a brood mare Auberon! Told me it was my _duty_ to produce heirs! Did he tell you this as he was no doubt listing all of my flaws to you? He needs to, if not be dismissed from the castle, then at least kept away from me. I thought he might be a bit of fun, seeing just how much of a boring prude he is, but I was wrong. He’s egotistical, rude, opinionated, and - and - pompous!”

“Pompous?”

“And don’t forget a prude.” Áine snapped, before trying to draw a deep breath as she felt her grip on her wine glass might break the stem.

“I suppose the boring is dropped then?” He lifted a brow.

“Oh no-” Áine shook her head with wide eyes. “He is quite dull. He is just like all the others who have spoken of me just as he has.”

“You can think of no redeeming quality he might have?” Auberon took another drink and Áine took a brief moment to warm at the slight crinkle around his eyes. He might not show it, but he was slightly amused by her ranting, and she thanked the stars he was there for her to voice her aberration of his advisor.

“None. If I never saw him again, it would be unnoticed, as if he ever existed before… this man of low birth telling me my duty as if I haven’t been told every day of my life. And you know me Auberon.” She pointed a finger at her chest. “I am not one to care about someone’s station in life, I care not if he came from parents shoveling horse manure or born to a duke and duchess, so long as they are decent, hardworking, and kind. But to come into my home, to judge me and my happiness? No. There is nothing redeeming about such a person.”

Auberon heaved a long sigh, something uncharacteristic of him, enough so that it had her attention immediately. “I don’t suppose it will offer much comfort to you then to hear this. My previous Private Secretary was called away to his estates. In such need of a replacement, I offered the position to Avallac’h.”

Áine tilted her head, confused. “I don’t see why this should upset me. I rarely visit you in your offices, so I am unlikely to cross paths with him. Life should go on as normal so long as you do not send him to keep an eye on me and Ciri in fear that I shall abscond with her.”

“A rather important task as your brother is keeping record of those who seek to ask your hand. If any should come across my desk who I believe would interest you, I send invitations to them to functions you have accepted invitations to on your own.” Áine felt her stomach twisting as her mind sped ahead of where his words were going. “I work closely with the secretary in this matter… Avallac’h has high regard for duty and propriety and will take this task seriously.”

Áine closed her eyes and took a deep breath before opening them once more to level them on her brother. Calmly she set her empty glass on a table and walked to her brother, cupping his strong jaw between her hands and pressing a kiss to his hair. With a serenity she didn’t feel within, she gave him a small smile before stepping back and turning away.

“Dream well brother.” She said as she strode through the door and down the stairs, not waiting for his reply. She didn’t remember the walk to the laboratory, so consumed she was with the rolling tides of her thoughts, and in each of them she was letting Avallac’h know just what she thought of him.

She didn’t bother considering the stairs to his quarters and focused entirely on the facility door, only to find it tightly locked. “Open the door Espane!” She called out only to be answered with silence. “The only reason you’re even permitted to breathe the same air as me is because your king allows one such as you into my home. If I have to shout for the guards to gain entrance to a room in my own home I will do so!”

The door swung open with a crack and Áine didn’t even pause to savor the victory, she strode into the candle lit room. She vaguely registered that he must have used a spell for he was faced away from her and stooped over a desk as he scribbled over whatever he worked on.

“I have had use of this facility for centuries before you were born.” His voice came from across the distance.

“That hardly grants you the permission to bar me from where I wish to go. You need Auberon’s command, and I’d like to be present when you bring such a thing to him…” Oh yes, her anger sang through her blood as clearly as it did her voice. She was positively vibrating with anticipation of saying her piece to him.

“Believe me when I say I have no wish to be in your presence, so I will keep this brief.” She snapped, coming to stand directly behind him. “Not only were you unhelpful in the case of my sick roses - something you put pathetically little effort into-, you claim this superior knowledge, intimate ideals on what it means to be a Muircetach.” She knew she had his attention when he stopped his writing and simply stood with his hands braced on the table. “You believe to know what it means to be Auberon or myself, but I tell you, you know _nothing_ about us. Less than nothing, and any _suitor_ you deem worthy will immediately be removed from Tir ná Lia. You will not dictate my life sage.”

“Believe _me_ Your Highness, it will be no easy task finding someone able to look past your childishness despite having the pleasing shape of a woman. You’ve only your title and rank to appeal to them.”  Avallac’h slowly stood and turned to face her, his expression carefully masked as always and clearly waiting for her next shout but Áine was only blinking up at him in surprise as his words played through her mind again.

“What did you just say?” She said in a calm voice on the off chance that he’d not just admitted to noticing the shape of her body.

The sudden change in her must have caught him off guard for he opened his mouth, his next words already chosen had to be swallowed and something else now had to be said. “What are you wearing?”

Áine studied him, tilting her head as her anger melted and amusement took its place. “A dress Avallac’h. A common article of clothing. One of several that I own.” Her lips slipped into a smile as she spoke.

“It’s not practical for the chill in the air- here.”

Áine stood silently as he unpinned his robes and quickly settled them around her shoulders, never taking her gaze from his face. “And now the servants and guards can no longer see the pleasing from of my body… nor the important details such as the way the stitching appears to be cupping my-”

“If you’ve said all you wished, I can ring for someone to escort you. I have work I wish to complete.” Avallac’h said abruptly, turning his back to her stiffly.

Áine’s smile grew and she pulled the folds of his robes close around her chest. That unidentifiable- a hint of coffee perhaps? -scent from before surrounded her in a pleasing way she would not have expected. She took a moment to run her gaze over his form, the clothing he wore while not shoddy by any means, could use more than a few upgrades.

“Shoulders wide, hips lean… not a great deal of musculature but enough to be pleasing.” Áine said mentally taking his measurements. She stepped around to his side, taking in the length of his arms and height. “Long legs but still rather short. Hmmm, that neck… why do you hide it so? Blues, silvers, greens. Reds are a no except in the smallest of details.” She tapped a finger to her chin and turned away, slowly making her exit from the laboratory. She continued to list off an assortment of colors and styles which would work wonders on a frame such as his.

She left him watching her departure over his shoulders, a mixture of confusion and relief shining from his eyes. It unsettled him, her assertion of power and ability to insert herself into his space whenever she pleases. But not more so than her sudden change in emotions… her anger and censure he’d expected and was able to withstand firmly, at least for a time before he found he had to at least _attempt_ to shape her into a proper princess.

But he had not expected her anger to suddenly disappear, for the teasing light to sparkle up at him before beginning to list his _qualities_ … he was not short. He was of matching height to Auberon! The thoughts had him shaking his head and turning his gaze back to his work, but he stared at it blindly as a new thought took root in his mind.

He might be able to avoid her when it came to securing her a proper match, but it was unlikely she would allow him to escape in the matter of her ridiculous dying roses. She would be back, the unrelenting force that she was.

Avallac’h sighed and ran a hand down his face.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Claim for Power

* * *

 

The creaking sound of the laboratory door opening had Avallac’h nearly drop his stack of books as a wave of panic swept over him. Cautiously he leaned around the side of the bookcase, allowing him view of the intruder without being seen. He sighed in relief as it was only a solitary servant carrying in a tray with his morning coffee.

It was irrational of him, he knew, to constantly be so on edge… even nearly two weeks after his brief encounters with Áine, he still lived in a state where at any moment she could whirl into his presence making demands and prove herself unworthy of her station.

Once the servant departed, taking the clutter of empty coffee cups with them, Avallac’h trudged over to the fresh delivery of his most favored drink, setting his books down carefully beside it. He’d tried for days to concentrate on his work, on the theory of hen ichor from the earliest days of his research.

Unbeknownst to anyone else, even the king himself, he’d begun looking into alternatives. He was not willing to accept that the fate of all Aen Elle came down to a human girl who knew nothing of the power in her veins. And even so, she knew nothing about controlling it. That made her a danger, the likes of which even himself being unable to truly anticipate. Measures needed to be placed else the untrained girl could likely bring the castle down around them whether by purpose or folly.

But was he able to concentrate on this important and likely lifesaving research?

Frustratingly, no.

Avallac’h’s mind was ever turned toward his dread and anticipation. He’d expected Áine to return, time and again, demanding answers about her ridiculous flowers. Avallac’h was a scholar- and as such he had an immense respect for solving problems, but he failed to see what was just so dire about a few sick bushes. Certainly roses had their uses in the medicinal world, but there were better and more effective alternatives, rendering them useless.

But perhaps the reason she’d yet to return was that they weren’t truly sick at all. The thought brushed through his mind that she was nothing but a bored, attention seeking child, with nothing more productive to do with her time.

He tried to ignore the thoughts, to forget the encounter with the princess had ever happened in the first place. His only reasoning could be that the laboratory facilities were largely understood to be under his jurisdiction. He knew they were not _his_ as she’d so clearly reminded him… but no one else ever had need of them. Never sought to dabble among the chemicals and runes. To weave magic and science together to create understanding of mysteries none had even realized existed yet.

Only himself and the occasional servant ever ventured through the creaky door.

Over the centuries of such solitude he’d welcomed and treasured within the ancient walls and pillars, the sunlight shining through the high windows, surrounded by the scent of candles. And yet within a heartbeat that solitude had been overwhelmed by _her_ presence. Honestly, he could look past her teasing nature in regards to his undergarments. He’d been negligent in that regards and paid for it with a modicum of irritation directed internally.

Not to say her behavior wasn’t entirely inappropriate and far below what a sister to the king of the Aen Elle ought to exhibit. But he would again force himself to shake his head and mutter about the spoiled ways of the youth.

After Áine’s initial intrusion, he’d believed the matter resolved, particularly after the heated exchange that came moments later. And he’d grown comfortable once more in his solitude, diving into his newest project, struggling to put two thoughts together. And then came her voice through the door, leaving him with very little choice in allowing her entrance.

And he’d managed to keep surprisingly collected as he allowed her to say her piece, it seemed her only reason for the journey from her quarters. To tell him she would reject anyone he approved. He’d come to expect just such a response. Yet in the end, with her abrupt change in demeanor, smiling at him as if he’d just offered her some delicious treat, he’d still ended up flustered and confused, a state which fueled his instinctive offering of his favorite robes… reasons he still shied away from fully thinking about.

There wasn’t a day he hadn’t looked for them after that out of habit, only to remember he’d given them to the princess, and he would shake his head forlornly. But he was not about to drag himself to her chambers again to demand his property. It was likely just as she wanted him to do, for there was little other reason in which she would want to keep them.      

Avallac’h shook his head and scooped up several clumps of sugar into the coffee. He didn’t have the time, nor the inclination to think of the princess and her alleged problems as it was. Auberon had asked for his list of possible candidates to present to his young sister, along with a great deal of other tasks and obligations that came with his new title.

His patience in dealing with Auberon’s ever growing reluctance towards persevering through the means of conceiving a true child of the people with Ciri, being one of them. More and more often, Eredin would seek out an audience with their king and voice _concerns_ on where Auberon stood with his progress. In the end Eredin’s interference did nothing but to frustrate everyone involved and Avallac’h wished Auberon would quickly find something for the duke turned general to do outside of Tir ná Lia.

Avallac’h did not find the gleam in Eredin’s eyes a desirable omen and the warrior had taken to turning such a look on himself whenever they happened to cross paths. Eredin had always been… intense. But that intensity was beginning to look akin to madness and it was little wonder Áine claimed to have no patience for the warrior.

If it hadn’t been for Eredin’s proclivity for war, he might have been at the top of Avallac’h’s list of potential candidates to take over the task of keeping Áine in line. The fact there was not any reality in existence in which Eredin could possibly make Áine happy whispered in the back of Avallac’h’s mind and he tipped back his coffee for a long drink in order to chase all thoughts of her and her happiness away.

It was not working.

After lowering the now empty cup, he caught the scent of roses, and for the second time within minutes, he snapped his attention around to search out her presence only to find he was a fool. He couldn’t take this much longer. He wanted to be certain she had no excuse to seek him out and invade his solitude, be it to drag him into her frivolous flower problem or to reject every man in Tir ná Lia.

Easy problem first, he’d decided as he quickly mixed several ingredients. He did not know the exact cause to the problem, but a general fungal invasion was likely the cause. Once the solution was ready and stoppered, he took a moment to adjust his dark red tunic and the belt around his waist. A quick glance over his breeches revealed them to be in presentable condition as were his boots. It was lighter clothing than he typically wore when he left to be about the palace, but his green robe was of a stiff itchy material, making it utterly uncomfortable.

And if he was to deal with Áine, he would need every iota of comfort he could put together.

During the walk to the gardens he pondered on the more challenging of his princess related problems. He honestly did not want to waste a second of thought on these problems period, but over his coffee, he’d come to accept that if he truly wished to be done with her, then he needed to find solutions. Long term solutions at that. That meant serious consideration into who to marry her off to.

If he were to allow himself utter bias, Caranthir, no hesitation. The thought of the Golden Child rising to prince of the realm, though he would never truly rule, had some appeal. Avallac’h could admit such ambitions were desirable and truly Caranthir was everything a prince should be.

Intelligent, powerful, charismatic, and he was proud… as he should be.

But… Avallac’h _did_ have hesitations. Enough so that he’d removed Caranthir from his list of potentials.

His Golden Child would not be happy with one such as her.

Áine with her endless teasing before flashes of temper. The dirt and freckles… No. Caranthir was even tempered, worked and trained without end, and kept himself properly maintained. He expected perfection of himself and it showed in everything he did, making him immensely valuable to the Aen Elle. A less than perfect princess would not do for the Golden Child.

Now standing in the entrance of the gardens, he glanced around wondering where he could find her. With her allegedly sick roses? Likely. Only that did little to help him for there were roses all around. A resigned sigh escaped him as he realized he would have to wander around until he came across either the cursed flowers, the princess, or a servant who could direct him.

His wanderings took him through paths bathed in late morning sunlight and more than once his attention had been captured by intricately carved statues, his favorite being the accurately sized griffin. He’d actually paused his search as he’d been captured by the regally posed beast, its wings spread and arched, head held high, with one clawed foot aloft and curled inward.

It was only as a servant passed with a bucket of water that Avallac’h managed to bring his attention for the artistry of each individual feather away, raising a hand to capture the servant’s eye.

“Is Princess Áine in the gardens this morning?” He asked, clasping his hands around the glass bottle he held behind his back as he awaited his answer. The servant hesitated, switched hands with the bucket and glanced around nervously. Avallac’h bit back a sigh… he had incredibly too much to do, and despite a momentary lapse in his admiration of the griffin, he would rather be quick about his journey into the gardens. “I’m to see her about her sick roses.” He lifted the hand holding the glass bottle from behind his back and shaking the pale yellow liquid within.

The servant did not look assuaged but shifted her eyes down a path leading to a small river. “Do you know where Enver is?”

Avallac’h tilted his head in silent denial. He knew the legend of Enver but so far as he could recall there should not be anyone in the castle currently named as such, much less why he would be aware of their whereabouts.

“Ah… you must not frequent the gardens then. Er- follow the river, cross the second bridge. When you see the butterflies, follow them. But be quiet in your approach of Her Highness. She is very busy and would like peace until she is finished with her morning routines.”

“Of course.” Avallac’h drawled with a lowering of his brows and he dismissed the servant with a turn of his attention to the path described to him. He followed the directions well enough, and soon crossed the second bridge to a densely wooded area, the path bordered by low hanging willows. He had to lift them from his path and he silently huffed that of course she would be just as dramatic to find as everything involving her seemed to be.

Eventually he did come across butterflies flitting through the willows and the surrounding flowers and he began to feel a strange hum through his body. Realizing that he must be preparing himself in anticipation of being in Áine’s presence he took a deep breath. He followed the butterflies to the sound of water and supposed the river must have wound its way back to his location.

“Are you ready?” Came the piercingly familiar voice, but who was she speaking to? Avallac’h followed the direction it had come from, abandoning the path. “Good. Breathe in and hold.” Again, her voice, much closer now. The willows gave way to a scene quite unlike any he’d ever seen, and he’d seen a lot through his years and travels.

Cloaked with trees stood a statue and with dawning realization he realized this was what the servant meant about the location of Enver. The legendary warrior from the earliest days of the elven conquest of Tir ná Lia. He stood in billowing stone robes and plate, hair wind swept, poised against the rapids of the river he stood within, sword held with both hands as if preparing for a dramatic upward slash. He made a handsome statue, that was very true, and quickly captured Avallac’h’s admiration more so than the griffin.

But that was not what brought him to an abrupt stop and had him completely surprised.

In a pool of sunlight near the statue was not only Áine but Ciri as well which shouldn’t be unusual, after all they seemed to have taken to each other, despite the child being a human. It was the fact that both women seemed to be in the midst of an exercise routine that had Avallac’h catching his breath and standing frozen. Garbed in leggings, loose wrapped tunics, and… bare feet. Facing each other, both were balanced on one leg with the other pulled into the air in an arch stretched behind their back.

“This one always pains me, and I want to cry right now, but in the end,  I will enjoy how loose my limbs feel.” Áine said in a slightly strained voice.

“I have never done this one, I quite like it. Goes deep.” Ciri replied.

“Let’s release this and go back to upward asana on an exhale.”

“Right.”

Avallac’h crossed his arms and watched as they released the grasp on the foot held aloft and moved methodically to standing straight on both feet then bent at the waist, placing hands into the grass several lengths from their feet and arching through the shoulders and waist into a pose that was more than provocative. Suddenly he did not feel as if he should be watching and sought an acceptable means to interrupt.

He decided alerting them to his presence while they were just so could be an opening for Áine’s typical remarks, so he waited for them to move on to something else. In the meantime, he was stuck trying to keep his gaze from admiring shapely hips and legs encased in tight leggings. Tried not to notice the peak of skin from where the princesses flowing shirt slid slightly down her back, unlike the tighter tunic of Ciri’s who’s stayed securely in place.

A huff of building annoyance threatened to escape as they seemed to hold the pose for a long period of time, much longer than he felt was necessary. And just when he’d decided to give in and make his presence known, Áine began to move, bending her knees and looking at Ciri through the long hair falling from her braid.

“Can you move to a back bend?” She asked breathlessly.

“The question is who can’t do that?”

Áine answered with a chuckle and the two swiftly changed positions until they were laying on their backs in the grass and after planting their hands and feet, lifted up into a deep arch that had Avallac’h pinching the bridge of his nose. He cursed himself a fool for missing his chance for a bout of curiosity.

Rather than try to avoid watching the princess linger in another revealing pose, he gave up.

“Your Highness, I’d like to speak to you about your flowers.” He said loudly, stepping close.

“He lasted one and a half poses Ciri. Two whole ones if we count the one when he happened upon us in.” Áine whispered mockingly before lowering herself to her back and sat up, waiting for Ciri to catch up.

Avallac’h supposed he hadn’t been trying to catch them unawares, had merely assumed he had in fact done just that. Typical of her to allow him to stand there… but he reminded himself he didn’t have time for her antics and tried again.

“Allow me to repeat myself.”

“No truly, I will not. If you wish to speak, then you must join us in the routine. If not, then admire Enver while we continue.” She began her comment with a cold snap before easing into her familiar teasing tone.

“ _No truly_ , I came all the way out here to help you when I should be seeing to more important matters.”

“Give me your hands Ciri and we’ll take turns pulling the other forward.” Áine said, stretching her legs out before her, pressing the bottoms of her feet against the bottoms of the other woman’s. Holding hands, Áine pulled Ciri forward before allowing the same to happen to her.

“Enver cuts quite the figure does he not Ciri?” Áine asked, her gaze passing over Avallac’h to run over the statue. “He was a conqueror, Aen Seidhe from the earliest of conjunctions. Even now, none could match his skill with the sword and magic. And yes, it was said he was just that tall and broad shouldered.” She gave a deep sigh. “They don’t come like that anymore.”

Avallac’h frowned at the statue, mentally recalling his own knowledge of the man. “I can think of no text in which his height is mentioned, much less the _broadness_ of his shoulders.” He said aloud.

“I used to dream of weaving together a spell to bring stone to life, not like golems, but true heart beating, lungs breathing, and blood rushing life. I would have used it on this Enver immediately, been stolen away on a horse to adventurous lands.”

Avallac’h rolled his eyes, his previous admiration of the finely carved statue dissipating the more she spoke.

“Why did you not?” Ciri asked.

“It would have been a horrible fate for him I decided. To give life to something which was never meant to have it. He would have looked like Enver, but would not have _been_ Enver… I suppose I should cut this short today Ciri for I fear that frown would likely become permanently etched across Avallac’h’s fetching face. He’s been brooding for far too long already.”

Avallac’h blinked widely before deciding she was attempting to goad him and shook off her words.

Slowly the women raised to standing and alternatively shook out their limbs, Áine turning to face him fully. The sun lit up her pale gold hair into a vibrant if not messy crown around her face as very little remained in the braid down her back. Her face was flushed and her eyes bright, lips tilted into a slight smile.

“What was it you wanted again Avallac’h?” She asked, setting her hands to her hips with a tilt to her chin. The movement of her toes wiggling in the grass caught his gaze for a brief moment as he pushed back his irritation at her coyness.

“I’m here about your sick plants. The flowers.” He said levelly meeting her silver gaze with his blue.

“Could you be more specific on which flowers? I have many.”

“Do you never cease to play games?” He asked in a bewildered voice, waving a hand through the air. He vaguely noticed the wide eyed gaze of Ciri moving between the two of them with her own grin easing across her lips.

Áine’s smile grew and she slowly shook her head. “I never do. But I can see that you are as dull as ever.” She stepped closer with uncharacteristically hesitant steps, her hands dropping from her hips to hang loose at her side. “So, almost two weeks have passed, and you decide now you wish to help. Why?”

Nothing ever seemed to affect her beyond teasing and anger. He’d yet to see her thrown off course… she said she admired those who were direct, well Avallac’h could be gleefully direct.

“The quicker this is resolved, the less likely I will be forced to remain in your presence. Eventually, if the fact there even are ill roses, you would have sought to invade where you are not welcome. I came to realize this and decided to take the initiative. Dropping this off with you will free up my thoughts so that I might concentrate on just who to marry you off to.” His voice was dripping with alleged excitement as he finished his reasoning.

For the most part she’d seemed bored with his explanation, that is until he brought up her marriage prospects, and her smile had slipped. It was the barest of moves, the slight uncurling of the corners and the blink of her eyes, but yes, she’d been unsettled.

“You seem to be under the impression that I’m unwilling to marry.” She said quietly and stepped closer to him, her gaze locking on his. “Quite the contrary. I’m _very_ willing.” Avallac’h tried not to narrow his gaze at her words, nor give name to the feelings that followed them, and the sight of her dropping her gaze over him with her lips twisting into a smirk, did nothing to aid him. “Like I said earlier… they don’t come like that anymore.” She lifted her gaze back to his and tipped her chip toward the statue. “And I’m _very_ selective.”

“Perhaps a revisit to animation magic then? Likely even a statue would find you as intolerable as I do.” He snapped before immediately feeling a wave of regret crash against him. He closed his eyes to the sight of her face lighting up in delight, her laughter drowning out his sigh.

“Oh, come now Avallac’h, no need to go so pale. It was well done, and I eagerly await the next time you lose a bit more of that control… its truly fascinating. If…” Her pause had him reluctantly meeting her gaze again. “If not entirely addicting. I might have to invent more excuses to cross paths with you after all… if it weren’t for the morbid things you were forcing on my brother and Ciri.”

Avallac’h’s brief flash of regret and embarrassment faded with frustration taking their place overwhelmingly fast. “If Auberon wishes to find another way, he will say so. He has not, therefore this is out of your control.”

Her emotions were just as quick to turn as his it seemed, for at his words her hands snapped to her hips so fast that the loose cloth and silly little trailing bits of wispy fabric attached to her tunic that seemed purely decorative, fluttered in their wake. “There is _nothing_ out of my control, if I don’t wish it. Perhaps if you were the good little problem solver you claim to be, you would actually find a way that wouldn’t cost your king his sanity and a girl her innocence.”

Avallac’h clenched his hands to keep from waving them about, or grasping her by the shoulders, both out of frustration, but had lost the ability to keep his voice calm. “There is no other way Your Highness! The white frost is already here, the winters are colder, arriving sooner and lasting longer. We need control over the elder blood  or millions with perish with Tir ná Lia. You won’t of course because of Auberon, but many more will!”

“Ciri _is_ the chosen one! Not to bear my brother’s child but to face the prophecy herself!” There was a glimmer in her silver eyes that told him she honestly believed it, whether out of desperation or stubbornness, he did not know.

“Ciri is a human. The only things humans have ever accomplished is to breed without care and farm.”

“I would go so far that they’ve taken to magic extraordinarily well for so recently learning it - tell me Aen Saevherne- are you feeling threatened by the bit of doubt that Ciri - a mere human - could be the one to save our miserable race?”

Avallac’h’s lips parted in a moment of appalled shock. “Have you no pride? Of course not- look at you traipsing about outdoors while bare foot-”

“It’s a good sight better than living as long as you have and yet to find a way to remove the stick from-“

“Finish that sentence and Eredin will be responsible for escorting you about the city.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“I’ve been looking for an excuse to keep him out of my presence, and I can be _very_ convincing. I could go so far as to recommend him as your personal escort even within the palace.”

“Remove. The. _Sti-”_

“Alright!” The shout from Ciri caused Avallac’h to blink down at Áine as she continued to glare up at him with her lips parted. In the argument- forceful exchange of words- he’d failed to notice just how close he’d come to stand before her… close enough to see the smallest of her freckles and feel the angry brush of her breath against his neck. “I believe you had a specific reason for coming here?” Ciri continued, having successfully managed to silence them.

Avallac’h honestly couldn’t remember who had invaded whose space first but for once, he refused to step back, but he was more than ready to be done with her and his foolish visit. He held the solution up between them, forcing her gaze to narrow in on it. “A remedy for the invasive fungus havocking your plants.”

Áine brushed his hand to the side with a roll of her eyes. “It’s not fungus Avallac’h. I’ve fought such things before - whatever curse has fallen on my roses - this is not it.”

“Have you tried to treat it as if it were?” He was not convinced of the existence of the problem and could not be bothered to exert any more energy than needed. Convince her that is the problem and he held the cure. That would be enough to put the matter to rest he was positive.

She shook her head with a bewildered blink and parting of her lips. “Why would I treat them for something when that is absolutely not what is wrong?”

He huffed impatiently and reached out with his free hand and grasped her wrist firmly and placed the bottle in her hand. Before he could allow himself to notice just how delicate she felt in his hand, the rush of her pulse against his fingertips, nor the slightest dilation of her pale gaze, he released her and stepped around her, locking his gaze on the human.

“I require your assistance.” He said with an authority in his voice honed from countless years directing everything from soldiers to students.

“With what?” Áine demanded from behind him.

Avallac’h turned his head just enough to be certain she heard him clearly. “King’s business.” He caught the small smile Ciri sent to the princess before giving him a nod. He turned to backtrack his way out of the gardens yet when he went to brush by Áine without waiting for her dismissal, she stopped him with a hand around his arm.

“She is not an experiment.” Áine said quietly, keeping her attention facing forward.

He tilted his head down near her ear. “She is whatever the king says she is.” He said just as quietly.

The smile she turned up at him was serene, unsettling so. “We will see.” She released him slowly, her hand trailing down the inside length of his arm, fingertips brushing his palm, sending a thrill along the path.

Locking his jaw together he finally managed a long paced exit, not caring that Ciri had to jog to catch up with her feet bare. He’d done what he came to do, and now he could begin to focus on Ciri and the power she possessed. He eagerly left the princess in the gardens behind, determined to make the parting permanent.

“Why do you not get along with-”

“Many reasons. Too many to list nor would you understand.” He interrupted Ciri, longing to put all thought and word of Áine out of his mind.

“Mmm, I may be nothing but a human, but I’d say I understand more than anyone else in this castle.”

Avallac’h frowned, determined to ignore the teasing laughter in her voice.

* * *

 

“Do you want to tell me what that was all about?” A firm voice said quietly from the opposite side of the river, drawing Áine’s unsurprised gaze to the owner.

The ache in her leg from the exercise did little to diffuse the frustration and disappointment settling deep in Áine’s chest as instead of answering the question, she listened to the soft steps disappearing through the willows, dropping her gaze to the bottle in her hand. “Not in a particularly telling mood right now, Maeve.”

“He got to you? Áine, say the word and he ends up in the healing ward. Say the _right_ word and he’s gone for good.”

Áine huffed a laugh and cut her eyes to Maeve the palace guard. Of course, that was merely a ruse for the woman with deep crimson hair and wide blue eyes that were deceptively innocent. Maeve was responsible for Áine’s safety, a duty that none other than herself and Auberon knew about and only on the days when Áine allowed her to be, but most importantly she was her oldest friend.

“You know me Maeve, he only ‘got’ to me because I allowed him to.” Áine shrugged. “I’m not concerned with his opinions of me, rather I’m more interested in what he has planned for Ciri at the moment.” She watched as Maeve leapt gracefully across the smallest part of the river, her soft leather boots hardly making a sound. Maeve had several inches of height to her own, and a lean strength which was impressively graceful. Something Áine often compared to her own full curves and the way she had to stubbornly wrestle her body into effortless grace, where Maeve made it look so easy.

“Áine I have never seen you so ready to… put your hands on a man!” The smile in Maeve’s voice was delighted in the scene she’d witnessed from the trees and it only grew at Áine’s eye roll. “I’m being honest! I was enthralled, never knowing if you were going to choke him or caress his cheek!”

It was Áine’s turn to smile, if not a bit more wickedly. “Now that would have been fun. Doing either, could you imagine his expression? Oh Maeve, how pleased I am for the ideas you give me.” And it was true… Áine had little doubt that either action would have had the same delightful reaction from Avallac’h. “You know…” Her gaze turned thoughtful and she paced a few steps before turning to face Maeve. “I’ve been despised for many things… I have more than reasonably attractive features, a powerful brother, and I’ll never want for anything. Looks that capture the eyes and imaginations of bored men. A king who ensures that none have power over me, ensuring the ambitious feel weak. And the comfort to pursue any passion I so desire.”

Maeve lifted a brow as she waited for Áine to get to the point. “But none have despised me - at least not aloud in my presence - like he has… and from what I can put together he believes me to be a spoiled child unbefitting to be sister to the King of Aen Elle.” Áine shook her head ruefully. “He’s entirely right, but it’s much more fun to let him believe I beg to differ.”

“That could be dangerous, Áine.”

It was Áine’s turn to arch her brow though she hadn’t quite mastered the look as Maeve had but she knew some day she would. “How so oh wise palace guard?”

“You will end up caring what the sage thinks of you Áine, and it will change you.”

Maeve said this with such a deadly serious glint in her eyes that Áine could not help but to burst out a laugh that had her nearly doubling over. When she paired the look with the words, her laughter renewed until her sides hurt.

“Are - are you suggesting that - I apologize Maeve.” She finally managed to tamp down her mirth to put together a full thought. “Are you suggesting that I’m going to fall in _love_ with him? Avallac’h? The dusty old sage my brother keeps around as a novelty and habit?” She shook her head with a wide smile. “Honestly Maeve it’s as if you don’t even know me.”

“I know you well enough princess. He has your attention, and that speaks volumes.”

“I give plenty of other men my attention. I shower Ge’els in attention after all, and though I love him dearly, I’m not _in_ love with him.”

“Ge’els does not amuse you while simultaneously infuriating you, now does he?”

Áine frowned at her friend, not at all fond of the direction the topic was taking her thoughts. “You forget the reasons for that fury. No matter how amusing he is turning out despite his attempts to remain dull, they will never erase his true nature. Do not paint me as a blind and silly child as he does.” She despised the snap in her voice, but Maeve was supposed to be on her side…

Maeve was unaffected by the tone and smirked. “He paints you as such because he is in denial. But as you wish… Your Highness.”

Suspicious silver eyes narrowed in on wide innocent blue. “Apology accepted. Since you appear to be off duty, how about we go see if wonder sage’s wonder rose cure has any effect?”

“I despise your roses Áine.”

“Liar, you have a fresh vase in your room every week.” Áine turned away and began the trek to the sick roses deeper in the garden.

“Only because you insist on sending them. It’s pretty annoying… if Your Highness is accepting criticism.”

“Hmm, I’m not at the moment, but you are giving me such wonderful ideas Maeve.” Áine slid her friend a sly smile. “Wonderful indeed.”

* * *

 

The following morning, a solemn yet frustrated looking Ciri joined Áine on the balcony above the dining room for breakfast, alerting her immediately to some change in their time apart. Her thoughts were unkind toward Avallac’h in that moment, certain that he’d done something to put Ciri in such a mood.

Áine waited patiently, chewing her food with precise bites and gentle sips of her sweetened coffee. Occasionally she would scan the scenery below in the early morning light. Watching as the castle and city came to life and thinking over everything in her plans for the day. Likely a ride into the city to personally pick up a very special order and convince Ge’els to abandon his duties to visit her favorite florist.

She slipped her gaze to Ciri as the girl buttered a sweet roll with more vigor than required and Áine’s own irritation with the as yet unnamed culprit, though she was beginning to feel dread sit on her chest heavily.

“I’m certain you’re wondering about my foul mood.” Ciri muttered.

Áine held back a sigh at the pained voice but summoned a calm smile, a mask for the sick feeling twisting in her stomach. “I am.” She said simply and pushed a cup closer to the other woman with a single finger, silent encouragement that this called for coffee, an offer that was accepted. “But I won’t push you. Unless…” Áine raised her gaze from the cup to search out Ciri’s. “Unless it involves my brother. Then I must insist that you tell me.”

She held her breath a moment as Ciri dropped her gaze to her plate, before releasing it and closing her eyes against the sudden dizziness spinning through her.

“I was brought to his rooms last night.”

Áine brought shaking fingers to touch her lips, bracing her elbow on the table. “This is my failure Ciri… I thought-” She dropped her fingers and blinked back the sting of tears.

“Nothing happened… this is not on you Áine.”

“What - what happened between you and my brother Ciri?” Áine whispered in a very un-Áine like voice, but she was shaken and desperate to know the state of her brother.

“I’m sorry for putting you in suspense.” Ciri said with a sad smile, a swift change from her previous state of frustration. “I can see in your expression that you’re very worried, and it means a great deal that you extend that concern to me. I didn’t expect to find that here… but nothing happened. I showed up, he allowed me entrance and told me sit on the bed.” She paused at the small flinch Áine gave at her words before continuing. “He stood at the window and never turned. I waited, grew tired despite my anger at him, all the Aen Elle, and even myself. I fell asleep. Woke up a short time later, he was gone.”

Ciri shook her head and pushed her food away with a sigh. “I want to go home. Whether with escape or doing whatever it takes, I’m sorry Áine, I know you want to protect your brother from this horrible thing and I wish I were stronger… but I’m tired. And if he’s not willing, and you haven’t found me a way out of here… then what else can I do?”

Áine was… shocked. And disgusted with herself.

Ciri was right, she’d done nothing to help her and her brother other than shout venom at Avallac’h and complain to Auberon. She’d instead gone about her life as if she’d acquired a sister of sorts, completely pushing the fact that Ciri had a life to return to, far from her mind. She had every intention of helping her, and she would.

But first, she had to see Auberon.

Silently Áine stood from her seat, her appetite more than gone. Before leaving the balcony all together, she paused by Ciri to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear with a smile, but the girl looked away without response. Áine couldn’t blame her, she truly couldn’t.

“Come with me… I wish to see Auberon. Then we’ll ruffle a set of feathers and test your Kelpie out in the city and we can discuss your arrival and how to get you home.” Áine said quietly. Ciri’s gaze snapped up to hers and after a moment of indecision, she nodded and slowly stood, allowing Áine to take her hand.

Silence followed them all through the palace. The servants and guards, the occasional noble or merchant… all were silent or very near it as they watched the two women walk past. It felt heavy and stifling… Áine despised it despite the silence ringing about her being familiar, having been around her for all of her life.

She didn’t mind the quiet, truly, but on a day like today it was insufferable, and she practically pulled Ciri through the library, eager to escape the palace. But only once she’d done what she needed to first. “Wait here, I’ll be a moment.” Áine said quietly, not slowing her pace as she released her hold on Ciri.

Ciri was left behind to gaze around at the extensive and ornate library while Áine continued on with nary a glance at the grandeur surrounding her. The endless sea of books collected from the extensive reach of the Aen Elle as well as those of their own creation. She was already a common sight amongst the shelves and had explored countless books over the years, but to discover a new read and settle in one of her favorite reading spots was not why she was there.

Quickly she took the curving stairs, fisting a hand in the soft fabric of her dress, and hardly noticing the pain of her steps. She had to see him, her most beloved brother, nothing would slow her for nothing else mattered.

Auberon’s offices were just as quiet as the rest of the castle, but they felt more alive in a way. Maybe it was the years of his presence within them for he spent more time there than anywhere else, but the moment she reached for the door that would open to his study, she could feel his presence.

This is where he would have gone after Ciri fell asleep.

Auberon stood tall and lean before the great window behind his desk, bathed in morning light and painfully still. He didn’t look at her during her entrance, nor did he when she nearly ran across the room to his side. The only thought running through her mind as she wrapped her arms around his waist from his side, an embrace which he did not return, just as she expected he would not but did not step away from, was that she was losing him.

He’d never truly been there to begin with, but recently he’d withdrawn ever more into himself, and it left Áine feeling lost and terrified. All she had was Auberon. Ge’els and Maeve could fill the silence with a few words and bring a smile to her face… but they could not take the place meant for him.

He cared deeply, she knew. For her, their home, and their people, he cared far more than any of them deserved. It was why he was willing - or at least attempting to be willing to do this horrible thing - to save them.

Áine tightened her arms around him, pressing her brow into his chest. She wanted to tell him he didn’t need to be the hero. That if the frost claimed them, then at least they had lived long lives and had been together. But she knew this was not what he needed. Truly she wasn’t certain if she had anything at all he could need from her anymore… but she would at least offer her love and acceptance.

She lost track of how long they stood there, her holding him, running a hand down his long silvery hair and soft robes the color of plum. She was determined to do so for as long as she could, as long as he would allow, lost in thoughts of how last night must have hurt him.

The silence of her journey to his study was no longer unbearable but now had a place. A place where words weren’t needed though she had plenty to say. His continued acceptance of her offering spoke more than he ever would have said, and Áine selfishly indulged herself this rare moment.

That is until the light rustling of cloth and slow steps of leather boots on the wooden floor of the study alerted Áine to the approach of a newcomer. She lifted her head and shifted again to Auberon’s side, a demand for the intruder to leave building in her mind. But she held the words back and instead laid the side of her brow on her brothers arm to watch as Avallac’h entered the room.

He must not have noticed her presence, most likely thanks to the book his nose was buried in and Áine couldn’t help smiling. He read as he walked. Rather endearing… And then her smile dropped, remembering that ultimately, he was the one at fault for the current state of her brother.

She studied him as he came to stand before a grand and neatly organized desk, reaching for a dainty looking coffee cup and never taking his eyes from his reading, took a long sip. It seemed he’d trimmed his hair in the time since their encounter in the garden the morning before and he kept it swept back and neat. Two little braids framing a hard-edged bone structure.

Àine narrowed her eyes at the perfect way the slate grey strands brushed his collar. She hated it.

A moment after he’d set his coffee down, his relaxed shoulders abruptly tensed, and he lifted his attention from the book still held close with one hand. She wondered what gave her presence away as he spun his gaze toward where she and Auberon stood, but whatever it was, had him now narrowing his flashing sea blue eyes and lowering his dark brows.

It truly was a shame Avallac’h was of such a disagreeable nature with equally disagreeable sway over her brother. She was certain if he’d been more like Ge’els, she would never tire of his presence, of admiring the shape of his eyes and the dark lashes framing them.

Áine drew a deep sigh as she closed her eyes and nudged her cheek into Auberon’s soft robe. She had to let him go, she knew. To leave him behind with the sage to be reminded on why it was vital to lay with Ciri. She was tired of feeling angry and sick with the whole situation. She’d much rather find ways to make Avallac’h pay, things she knew would simultaneously shake his tightly wound control and reaffirm his views of her childlike nature.

Things that were no where near the level of chaos he was causing in Auberon and Ciri and by extension herself, but they would let him know just how despised he was.

Slowly she opened her eyes to find he was still watching her, his expression giving nothing away. Following her movements as she released her hold from her brother and approached his desk. She stopped next to him, close enough for her dress to brush against his green robe and she spared a thought toward the blue one still tossed over her harp.

“Blue is a much more befitting color on you Avallac’h.” She said genially with a teasing smile she wasn’t truly feeling. She knew he wouldn’t reply, not in Auberon’s presence but the clench of his jaw said he understood her clearly. Her smile turned sincerer, ever more so when he blinked his gaze at her with an uncertainty that he quickly hid.

Her gaze slid from his and down to his desk, taking in the neat stacks of papers and journals. Two quills lay perfectly aligned next to an ink quill, even the coffee cup looked placed perfectly in symmetry with everything else. But nothing there was personal, nothing about the desk other than its neatness said that Avallac’h sat there for hours out of the day.

Even Auberon had a bronzed dragon figurine she’d given him as a child on his desk.

Áine just began to consider the display sad and boring when something completely opposite of them both caught her eye. The top most paper in the single stack near the edge of the desk, the words clearly written at the top, ‘ _Unqualified’_ followed by a list of names.

She bit her lip in her attempt to contain her smile, but it was impossible. Very deliberately she reached for the list, meeting the sea blue eyes with an amused challenge in them. Her heartbeat raced at the thought of all the fun she was going to have with this list.

From the corner of her eye she caught the twitch of his free hand before he clenched it and hid it behind his back, but otherwise he made no other attempt to stop her from folding the paper. Which she did very deliberately, finding the flash in his gaze exhilarating. She was the one in power for the moment, and he was the one helpless.

It was nothing like the power he had over Auberon, but it was _something._ He didn’t want her to have that list, for reasons she could only wonder at, but his reaction told her it went beyond his disapproval of the men on the list.

Her work done for the moment she slid him one last smirk and walked away to find Ciri with an air of  pleased serenity. She was only beginning.

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 


	4. Games Beginning

* * *

 

Nearing the end of the day, Avallac’h sent a servant away with arms nearly overflowing with correspondence to be delivered to their recipients before immediately setting his desk back to order. His robes scratched at his neck and left him feeling overheated, added to the headache spreading from temple to temple, he was more than prepared to retire for the evening.

But as he stood from his desk he caught sight of Auberon… still as stone just as he had been from the moment of his arrival in the morning. Avallac’h held back a sigh though his shoulders fell a fraction instead. His mind was scattered, unable to focus on one thing more than they other, but always in the back of his thoughts was his brief morning encounter with the princess.

His mindless arrival, deep in his reading of chaos theory, followed by the scent of roses. The sight of Áine comforting her brother, the mixture of emotions in the gaze she leveled on him. Sadness and anger… an emotion close to loathing directed toward him. And seeing Auberon, knowing what must have happened the night before, he could not blame her.

But until he could explore more options, to test the human child’s power against the world destroying threat, there was little he could do. He certainly could not reveal his extracurricular activities without proof and even then, he could not be certain that those like Eredin and Imlerith would not demand the procreation between the two anyway… The elder blood was their greatest achievement and control over the power had endless possibilities.

Avallac’h could argue that he was not at fault for the very real and clear depression of their king, for truthfully, Auberon had been closing himself off for a long time now. And she might even agree, after all she seemed to care for her brother a great deal, so it would stand to reason that she was not blind to his state, but today had been the first in which she’d actively sought him out to express an emotional connection. And her eyes had spoken very clearly that this morning was his fault.

But no matter her feelings toward him, deserved or not, they had not stopped the shine of wicked mirth from taking over… she’d taken that list of unqualified suitors clearly knowing what she now possessed, and he only had his imagination to aid him in what she had planned. Nothing good, he knew that for certain.

His headache grew.

“If you’re waiting for dismissal Avallac’h, there is no need. Take your leave as you wish.” Auberon spoke quietly, only turning his head slightly toward Avallac’h.

Avallac’h had to shake his head, realizing that again he’d fallen into never ending thoughts of the princess once more… he hadn’t been waiting for dismissal, he knew his place well enough and if Auberon had need of him to stay, would have mentioned it long ago. He’d just been standing there staring at nothing like a fool, steadily making his headache and mood worse with each passing thought.

“I leave you well then.” Avallac’h said with a slight nod and strode from the room, eager to be within the comfort of four walls where everything was under his control and even the impossible and unknown made sense. But the moment he reached for the door to the laboratory, he knew something was off.

Quickly, he threw open the door only to stop two steps in, his gaze running over the chaos. With each destroyed beaker, tipped over bookcase, ink splatter, and shredded parchment, Avallac’h’s anger grew. Magic permeated around him… there was only one person in all existence who would dare to do such a thing… and he was done being polite to her.

With the wave of a hand he cast a spell and turned away from the room. He closed the door to the sounds of magic righting book shelves and glass clinking back together. His stride was long and crossed the distance at a quicker pace than he ever had before, his path taking him first to the palace gardens. However, the sight of Ciri leaving the dining room had him abruptly changing course.

“Where is she?” He demanded without greeting, looking past her shoulder to see if Áine remained in the other room.

“Who? Áine?” Ciri asked with an innocent tilt of her head.

Avallac’h narrowed his gaze at her once he confirmed the princess was not in the dining room. “You know very well who I mean. I know you were with her, I saw you waiting in the library. No doubt after she was done with her visit with the king, the two of your set your sights on vandalizing my work. Several centuries of it at that.”

“Mmm well I have to say, I did pour out a few ink pots… the rest of the work was all your dear princess. I wonder why-“

“Where is she Cirilla?” He demanded in a deadly quiet voice.

“What do you intend to do?” Ciri countered with a suddenly worried voice, a tone that tamped down the hot anger rushing through his blood down to a constant simmer.

“I intend to place some very firm boundaries. Auberon has little care for what she does, no care for what lines she crosses. Well I have a duty to the crown and its image, and I will enforce these boundaries myself.”

Ciri shook her head with a small smile. “Perhaps you are right to do so... We went to the city.”

He stared at her in stunned silence.

“She’s still there if you want to go find her.”

Avallac’h blinked. “Please tell me you were both escorted.”

Ciri’s expression told him that was the silliest thing she’d ever heard of. “I don’t see why… we’re both capable in our own safety.” She grinned widely as he abruptly turned and strode away. “I mean the magic she used to trash the laboratory? Pretty powerful stuff… She said something about wanting to look at flowers!” She ended up shouting after him before doubling over in laughter.

He was going to - to - well Avallac’h was struggling to think of something that didn’t involve bodily harm to a princess. Likely a lot of shouting. Yes, he had a lot to raise his voice about. She admired directness? She would receive it.

The dangerous look in his eye shut down any questions from the stable manager might have had when he demanded his horse saddled and it took a great deal of self-control to keep a pace just below a gallop. He knew Tir ná Lia as well as he knew the palace and knew there were approximately eight florists throughout the city.

He found her at the sixth.

His horse protested the abrupt way he reigned him in which he soothed with a few pats on its neck before swinging down from the saddle. He could see her through the shops dominating front window framed by a sea of greenery and blooms. Her attention was held by a potted fern, examining the leaves closely before moving her lips soundlessly. It occurred to him vaguely that she was speaking to someone, and whatever the topic, she smiled widely a moment later.

Of course, she would believe herself to be having a grand time after the chaos she’d left behind and then promptly put herself in danger.

The movement of him crossing toward the door caught her attention for her smile quickly slid into a self-satisfied smirk that only stoked his anger more. He ignored the greeting of the shopkeeper, instead immediately turning toward where he’d last seen Áine fussing over the fern.

She was no longer there.

With the clench of his jaw he brushed aside all manner of low hanging plants, weaving around cluttered shelves and tables till he’d made a full circle through the shop and found she was not to be found. A very explicit curse raced through his mind as he turned back toward the door before stopping abruptly to the sight of her knelt next to an exotic tree of sorts. The shopkeeper whom he’d ignored at his entrance stood next to the princess, nodding along to the quiet words she was speaking out of his hearing and holding a pair of white gloves.

“Only a moment more Avallac’h, I’m in the middle of giving a lesson on the proper aeration of the soil for young sprouts.” Áine said, raising her voice enough for him to hear without glancing his way.

“I insist.” He ground out, stepping close to see her hands submerged in dirt.

She had the gall to heave a sigh and look up at the shop keep. “See what I must deal with?” With filthy hands pressed against the stark white of her breeches covering her knees, she pushed herself to standing and Avallac’h didn’t know what infuriated him more… the now soiled clothing or the snug way they encased her hips. “I’ll send for this one on the morrow. I’ll take the fern with me tonight now that Avallac’h is here, he can carry it.”

“No, Princess, I’m not here to convey a plant back to the castle… you know why I’m here.”

She spun on a heel, crossing her arms across her chest and leveled an arch look at him. “I’m not leaving without the fern Avallac’h. I’m not the accomplished horsewoman I look to be at the moment, I fear I would fall if I attempted to hold a small pot with one hand while controlling a large beast with the other.”

Avallac’h glared at her while she stared back with wide falsely innocent eyes. “You heard Her Highness. The… fern.” He expected her so give him a triumphant look, but instead her smile disappeared all together and she turned toward the exit, pausing a moment to accept her gloves back from the shopkeeper.

He cringed a bit when she lightly dusted her hands off on one of her legs before pulling the gloves over the still dirt streaked hands. The sound of a clearing throat brought his attention away from the now ruined gloves to the shopkeeper holding out a small potted plant which he accepted with a sigh and followed Áine through the door.

She stood in the fading sunlight, the hood of her white short cape pulled up over her head and obscuring his view of her, and he couldn’t help but wonder at the impatient tap of her boot, the tall heel digging into the dirt. He understood his own impertinence to be on the way but hers surprised him, but he did not speak of it and instead strode over to his horse and prepared to mount just as hers was brought around the corner by a servant to the shop. Abruptly he remembered himself and turned to offer her a hand up instinctively, never considering she might refuse.

His action must have caught her off guard for she stared at his hand blankly for a moment before shifting her gaze to his with a sigh. Reluctantly she placed her hand in his and braced herself against his strength to pull herself into the saddle.

“Gallantry must always be encouraged.” She muttered and nudged her mount into a light trot, not waiting for him to mount his own horse.

That same curse from before raced through his mind as he swiftly raised himself into the saddle while balancing the ridiculous plant and urged the horse into a quick pace to catch up to her. “You go too far Princess.” He snapped once he was nearly even with her.

“Apparently not far enough if you found me.” She quipped.

“Do not attempt to seem surprised princess, not after what you did. How could I not seek you out after finding my life’s work and important progress vandalized? I searched six out of eight florists for you.” His voice rose until a few bystanders glanced their way, reminding him that they were not in the privacy of the palace.

“Oh Avallac’h, you’re being dramatic… I know you simply used a spell to clean it up. Nothing was truly lost. And six truly? You were remarkably quick, well done.” Her voice was chiding and sarcastic in an aggravating mixture.

“Dramatic? I believe you fail to realize just how damaging _your_ dramatics are. What if someone had been using the facilities? Or a servant came across the damage and were hurt?”

“Please, we both know the reason you sleep naked in there Avallac’h is because no one ever enters but you… I feel I should have done something far worse than causing a bit of mayhem, that of which could be easily fixed for someone of your… legendary talents.” She nudged her horse into a quicker pace leaving him to follow a small length behind.

“I’m not responsible for what happened last night Princess, and even if I were childish pranks are not how it should be handled!”

She turned in her saddle to glare at him. “How would you handle the fact that the only person you truly care about, the one person you would do anything for, is visibly willing himself to _die_? What if you had to watch the one responsible flit around your home while you do nothing?” She pulled her horse to a stop. “What would you _do_ Avallac’h if you were me?” She shouted the question, her eyes flashing in newly unleashed anger.

“I’d do what I had to ensure the protection of my people! Smile at the enemy and plan for a better future! Not resort to such pettiness unbefitting one of royal blood.”

She shook her head and urged the horse to continue on. “I already smile a great deal Espane, and it does not make the problem of _you_ disappear. And honestly… royal blood this and princess that. All you care about is duty and appearances.”

“Not all but yes, a great deal. Which brings me to my next bullet point on this rather extensive list of behaviors you will rectify.”

“Let me guess… I’m not eating my soup with the correct spoon.”

“I’m certain you’re not though more likely on purpose, not out of ignorance, but childishness.” He blinked at her unladylike snort of laughter. “I mean to address the fact you continually visit the city unescorted. There are always the ambitious who would love nothing more than to get their hands on you, knowing they could use you to control Auberon.”

“I’m wearing a disguise Avallac’h.” She remained facing away from him but waved a hand down her body. He ran his gaze over the white with black detailed shirt laced tightly down her back, the matching leggings and white heeled boots. He had to remind himself not to pay attention to the roll of her hips in the saddle and instead glared at the back of her head.

“There is not a soul alive that would mistake you for anyone other than yourself, hood or not.”

“I can tell by your tone that you do not mean that as a compliment, but joke is on you because I’m taking it as one. What you truly mean is that my ethereal beauty sets me apart from all others. Thank you Avallac’h, I’m touched.”

“What?” He said with a shake of his head. “Stop that. We’re talking life or death for you and a loss of power for your brother. From now on if you wish to visit the city, I’ll personally escort you.”

“Is this where I’m supposed to protest and then you threaten me with Eredin instead to which I realize you’re the lesser evil of the two of you meaning I have little choice and give in?”

He didn’t reply, instead he adjusted the hold on the plant and continued to glare as she sighed dramatically.

 “Predictable. And how little you know about… well anything.” She said, tossing him a quick smile before shouting a command to her horse and taking off at a deadly gallop.

At first, he thought as he struggled between the plant and controlling his horse that she would disappear deeper into the city, but she remained on the path back to the castle gates and stood waiting near the stables when he finally caught up.

“I win.” She said with a cheery smile, following his movements as he slid down from the saddle.

“First of all,… we were not racing. Second, if we were, you cheated. Third, you lied about your riding skills.” Avallac’h muttered and after tossing the reigns to a stable hand, pushed her ridiculous plant into her arms much like she had to him with her jar of dirt.

She didn’t put up a fuss about it but turned with him to walk toward the castle entrance. “But of course we were racing, how is that in doubt? And again, of course I cheated and lied… it is expected is it not? I was not taught the same honorable life lessons as you were it seems.”

“I doubt you had any lessons at all.” He muttered, wrapping a hand around her elbow to escort her up the grand staircase, breathing in the light scent of roses. Out of the corner of his eye her caught the teasing grin she flashed toward him.

“Only the fun ones. You know… painting, which wine to drink if you wish to become ridiculously carefree, which level of eyelash batting will obtain me a refreshment, and which will obtain me a proposal.”

“Ah yes, now that you’ve brought it up…” He drawled and pulled her to a stop at the top of the stairs. “My list. I’d like it back.”

Áine grinned and leaned toward him, her long kohl darkened lashes blinking with great exaggeration. “No, I don’t think I shall give it up.”

“Princess…” He narrowed his gaze at her and struggled to ignore the erratic beating of his heart.

“Tell me why you want it back so terribly bad.”

“Because you have nothing good intended for it.” He could not tell her the true reason, that would undoubtably send her straight into Caranthir’s path.

“Isn’t it wonderful? Nothing good intended indeed but all of it fun.” She leaned back and wiggled her gloved fingers at him. “Sleep well Avallac’h.”

He remained silent as she walked away, the swing of her hips pronounced with her rather… unusual gait. Frowning he tilted his head as he studied her movements… but then she was gone, and he realized he looked like the greatest of dumbfounded idiots, standing at the top of the stairs and staring at a woman’s… curves… as she walked away.

Avallac’h sighed and made the journey to the now completely put back to rights laboratory, lighting the fresh candles with a wave of his hand. Áine was not just any woman either… one that was _supposed_ to be good and upstanding. Instead she had a human like wildness in which he had no idea how she came about it.

As he dropped into the well worn high backed chair next to the bed he couldn’t help but wonder exactly when he’d ceased to be angry at her. Irritated certainly, and in fact he still felt a good amount of it… but he realized he never really said everything he’d had racing through his mind. A few of them yes, and of course she’d had some to say as well as she always did.

Shaking his head at his own inner thoughts his attention was captured by a package wrapped in sheer silver fabric and ribbon.

* * *

 

Humming lightly to herself in the early morning the next day, Áine put the finishing touches to her outfit for the day, taking exceptional care with her toiletries for that day she had a great many plans. There was breakfast with Ge’els followed by a bit of sleuthing involving a few of the more unrecognizable names on Avallac’h’s ‘unqualified’ list, seeing to preparations for her quickly upcoming birthday, with the rest of the day in the library to research the magical time loop the sage had trapped Ciri in upon her arrival and how to break it

There was a moment where she wondered if she would run into Avallac’h, and despite the events of the day before, she was rather hoping she would. He should have found the surprise she’d sent to the laboratory, and honestly, she was rather excited to see his reaction.

Taking a deep breath and stepping back to glance over her appearance, she pinned a wayward curl back into place and brushed her hand down a slight crease in the delicate material of her dress. A shade of blue she knew went quite well with her hair and clung to her curves as if held in place by magic. Her leg would protest the dangerous height of her heels, but the length of the dress was perfect for showing off the shoes which in turn showed off the delicate turn of her ankle.

A dress made for first impressions.

Sending herself a wink in the mirror she made her way out of her room, slipping a silvery wrap around her shoulders as she went. Still lingering rains had come in during the late night and with them a chill to the air but Áine didn’t mind. She was quite fond of rainy days and crisp mornings… they were better spent by the fire but the conservatory for breakfast would be just as lovely a place.

“There you are.” Ge’els greeted her with a brush of a knuckle across her cheek once she’d joined him on the path to the conservatory.

“Indeed, here I am.” She smiled up at him while taking him by the hand. “Now come along, I have much to discuss with you.”

“Is it about the dress? Not to say you do not always put care into your appearance - at least in the beginning of the day - but you would leave any man speechless if they crossed paths with you today.”

Áine led the way to a dainty little table and chair set made of wrought iron and painted white, positioned with a perfect view of the stormy grey clouds. “That’s the plan! And it is indeed about the dress. Good morning Selly, we’re ready.” She said the later part to her dear Selly who bounced a small curtsey, something she continually insisted on no matter how many times Áine told her it was unnecessary. “Take a look at this Ge’els.” She said once they were both seated and pulled the folded paper from the silver sash tied around her waist and handed it over.

“A list of names… men… high ranking for the most part… titled unqualified.” He looked up through his lashes to her once he’d examined the paper and held it back out to her. “What is it you have planned… I can see by that wicked gleam in your eye that you have something rather risky in mind.”

She waved a hand through the air before sliding the paper back in its hiding place. “Nothing but games of course… But Auberon’s sage was very particular on regaining this list back from me. There’s so little I can do you make him pay for this elder blood prophecy nonsense, so I intend to see what makes these men in particular so _unqualified_ to seek a union with myself.”

Selly led in another servant bearing a covered tray who quickly began to place their food and coffees before them. Áine smiled her thanks before attacking her toast with a generous smear of strawberry jelly.

“Would you like the thrill of finding out yourself, or if you’d rather, I can tell you who exactly on that list Avallac’h does not wish you to meet.” Ge’els said with an innocent air.

Áine stopped midbite to stare at him over her toast. “Tell me, I’m much too impatient for mysteries, you know that.”

Ge’els warm chuckle warmed her heart. “I do indeed. If you’re certain…”

“I am.” She nodded then finally took a deep bite.

“Very well… You may have heard of Avallac’h’s extensive research into space and time magic, his tireless work in recreating the power of the elder blood gene. No? Well you were a child at the time. Through selective mating of powerful Aen Elle sages, he came close, with one child. The Golden Child as he is thus fondly called.”

Áine listened with wide eyes, hardly noticing as she took bite after bite of her breakfast, that she was enthralled.

“The child was not his, but Avallac’h put a great deal of time into raising and training him. Caranthir Ar-Feiniel, the last name on that list, is a powerful Navigator for we the Riders.”

Áine gasped, a hand flying to her chest. “Ge’els you _work_ with this Caranthir? Tell me everything! What is so wrong with him that his mentor would attempt to dash his hopes at winning my affection… I mean he was only a prospect because he actively made his interest to Auberon known!”

“Caranthir is… to put it as we the romantics would, perfection. Young, powerful, charismatic, and now apparently ambitious. He is a favorite of Eredin’s though I’m not certain if it is because he listens to his commander or his usefulness, but he has risen through the ranks at an unprecedented rate.”

“He does sound perfect…” Áine frowned in confusion however. “Then why do you think Avallac’h listed him as unqualified?”

Ge’els, for the first time in recent history looked more than mildly uncomfortable. “He may be… protecting him. From you.”

It was silly, she knew, to allow such a thing to affect her, but Áine felt her good spirits dampen as she realized that Ge’els just might be right about that. “Avallac’h despises me and my ways to the point he would interfere with his prodigy a chance to be the prince by my side? I-I don’t know how to feel about that.” She frowned at her plate a moment, her hand curling into a fist in her lap as her breathing shortened into angry huffs. “No, I do know how I feel.” Her eyes flashed molten iron up to his. “I’m damn well furious. How dare he…”

She abruptly made a decision and pushed herself from the table.

“Áine…” Ge’els said in a cautious voice. “What is it you plan to do?”

She spun back to face the still seated Ge’els. “First, I’m going to change my dress. Second, I’m going to meet this Caranthir and ensure I have him begging me to take his hand.” Her tone was bordering on shouting but in her hurt pride she could care less.

Ge’els sighed and moved to stand before her. “That is not who you are Áine. The boy should not be made to suffer for the offence of his mentor.”

Some of the anger left her shoulders and she pressed her brow to the center of his chest, finding it difficult to steady her breathing. “How is it that I’m not enough? Have I ever treated people below me cruelly or strung along countless lovers blatantly?”

He drew a hand down the length of her back before easing himself back for her to look up at him. “No, you have not. The fault is not with you, my love.”

She was silent a moment, slowly pulling herself from her self-depreciating thoughts before straightening her shoulders once more. “Fine, I won’t try and make this Golden Child fall in love with me, but I will see if I can cause a bit of fun elsewhere. Avallac’h thinks me a child? We shall see.” She turned her attention toward Selly. “I believe the laboratory, and my brothers’ study could use a vase of roses today and every day.”

Not waiting for Selly’s acknowledgement Áine swept from the conservatory and quickly returned to her rooms. She knew just the dress to wear to ensure she had this golden child’s attention, if not romantically then primally. “Do you believe he will be in the barracks? This Caranthir?” She asked as Ge’els followed her in to her room.

“Without doubt.”

Áine looked over her shoulder as she untied her sash and the nearly invisible side laces of her dress. “Wait for me there, perhaps it is time I have a tour… I’ve always been curious about your work.”

He shook his head with a soft smile. “Of course. See you in a moment.”

The door clicked softly behind him but Áine was already in the midst of pulling out a perfect confection of light pink made of sheer- _very_ sheer fabric. She had been looking for an excuse to don the risqué dress, and while it was no spring day ball, it should be worth it if word reached the boorishly proper Avallac’h.

Her expression proud and determined she made her path toward the opposite side of the palace, each step increasing the excitement in her blood. She still had trouble coming to the terms that Avallac’h found her _unworthy._ She might not fit his opinion of perfection, but he was hardly the epitome of Aen Elle excellence himself. Something she would be sure to remind him of when next she saw him-

So deep in her thoughts of just what she found so lacking about the sage she nearly did not see him as he passed in front of her, his nose again in a book. But she did notice him and was forced to withhold her scathing set down as she took in his appearance.

“You’re not wearing them. The robes.” Áine said in an emotionless voice, but loud enough to have him nearly drop his book in his haste to look towards her. In her horror at his blatant rejection of her gift, she failed to find enjoyment in his shocked gaze as he raked it down her body, taking in the barest hint that more was exposed than socially accepted.

“You cannot wear that.” Avallac’h said at last, averting his gaze back to hers.

“I can wear whatever I like, same as you it seems.” She said between clenched teeth.

“That is not a proper - not a proper anything! As for the package you sent, again it’s improper for me to accept such gifts.” He tugged on the green robe he again wore at the moment. “However, I would enjoy having my old robes returned.”

“No.” She said and crossed her arms under her breast, the movement drawing his gaze, and finally she found the smallest spark of amusement when he hastily lifted his eyes again.

“No?”

“No. You gave them to me and I accepted. Seems you missed that particular lesson in manners.” Tilting her head back a fraction, she glared down her nose. “You want me out of this dress?”

“Yes.” At her raised brows he closed his eyes for a moment with a quick shake of his head. “Wait- I want you to dress _appropriately_ , as the Crown Princess ought to.”

“Only if you accept the robe.”

“Fine.” He said in a deep voice of stubborn displeasure. “I’ll accept-”

“And wear- often.” She added with an overly sweet smile.

“-and _wear_ the robe _often_.” He added with a barely withheld curl of his lip if she where to guess at the twitching she could see.

Deciding that she did as intended, even if it wasn’t quite the man she’d hoped to see her in her most shocking of dresses, she would take it. Avallac’h was thoroughly horrified and shocked… So, she summoned up another one of those fake smiles she seemed to be mastering, just for him, and turned to return to her rooms.

A deal was a deal after all.

She was still hurt, not only by his opinions on how low he thought of her, but the rejection of a gift. Something she’d put quite a bit of thought into and had honestly been rather excited to see him in it. She hadn’t done it out of friendship or anything even close to such a thing… but he was the kings secretary. An incredibly prominent position, making him the face of Tir ná Lia in all matters and he dressed as if he were still the little hermit in the laboratory he had been before the elevation in rank. She supposed he always would be in someway but when he was at Auberon’s side, he aught to dress for it.

He had such opinions on her appearance, and honestly in an unofficial capacity she could care less for her looks. But always- _always_ when in the official capacity as Crown Princess doing whatever event she’d been honored to attend, she looked the part.

“Infuriating man.” She muttered to herself before pushing all thought of him from her mind. She was back to her normal plan, dressed in a confection meant to charm rather than scandalize and arouse, and curious about the ‘out of her reach too perfect for a princess’ Golden Child of the riders.

Ge’els arched a brow when she finally joined him at the staircase that would lead down to the barracks courtyard. “Change of heart?”

Áine slipped a and through his arm, twisting her fingers in his sleeve. “Not exactly. But I can’t talk about it just yet, I’m meant to be smiling.”

“Ah.”

They fell into silence until Áine realized as the strolled through the courtyard that she was no where near smiling. “Ge’els, quick, make me smile.”

“I’m to pick up your birthday gift today.” He said immediately.

This did indeed bring a smile to Áine’s face and she practically glowed up at him. “How lovely! You would think, weeks away from three hundred and thirteen that I would tire of celebrating my day of life, but I never do.”

“A wonderful day indeed, particularly for myself.” Ge’els smiled down at her.

“What did you get me?”

Ge’els shook his head with a teasing smile. “Every year you ask me and every year I tell you that you must wait.”

She’d just begun to roll her eyes when a voice drew their attention.

“The lovely Crown Princess Áine on the arm of our fine city Viceroy and my favorite, General Ge’els. To what do we owe the honor?”

Áine’s smile tightened a fraction at the sight of Eredin, standing tall and regal in light armor of black with red details. A handsome man when he wasn’t using glamor magic to alter his appearance into one that was intended to strike fear into the hearts of men. She never got on with the soldier, there was the feel of dark magic that seemed to cling to the air around him, the barest hint of madness in the shadow of his eye.

They might have been friends once, if not for the relishing joy he took in warfare and expansionism. In fact, in the years before her riding accident, she remembered him to be a very fine dancer with interesting tales of faraway lands. As a high ranking noble, they were often invited to the same events. But long ago a darkness seemed to have begun to follow him, and as a woman who nurtured life rather than plucked it away, allowed herself to build a wall between them.

But, the tall and darkly handsome Eredin was not who drew her gaze, it was the golden haired man standing- or rather leaning boyishly on a staff- at his side and Áine was… stunned. As tall as Ge’els with a lean strength, perfectly symmetrical face framed by long, spun gold hair. His light armor was similar to Eredin’s though instead of swords belted low on his hips, he obviously favored a staff, with eyes the color of stormy greys and blues gazing back at her. She might have been able to find her wits a bit quicker if not for the perfectly quirked smile he was sending her, one she instinctively returned.

“Áine and I were discussing her upcoming birthday celebration.” Ge’els answered for her, but that did not break her study of who could only be Caranthir.

“Days from three hundred and thirteen, and never once in all that time as Áine stepped a dainty slippered foot in here.” Eredin continued in a disbelieving voice.

“Hush Eredin, my reasons are not your concern, and _obviously_ not my line of focus.” Áine said, still eyeing Caranthir’s ever growing smile. Perfectly kissable… and made Áine wonder when the last time she’d been thoroughly kissed actually was. The sight and sound of his laughter startled Áine into blinking and she wondered if she’d just said her last musings out loud.

Deciding she was quite on the edge of making a fool of herself, she finally turned her gaze back to Eredin. “I am after all the Crown Princess… meaning, heir to the throne type of princess. Seems appropriate to see how my brother’s favorite general and commander of the legion of riders are faring and to personally invite you to my little party.”

A calculating gleam shined in his pale eyes and his lips slid into a near predatory smile. “Áine, I go every year, and every year you ignore my existence. How pleased I am for this change in our once companionable relationship.”

She wrinkled her nose at him in an obvious sign of disgust and shook her head. “Please do not read into this Glas. I still find your violent nature dull as well as stifling. Come to me with stories of exploration and adventure, certainly. But I have no wish to hear how many you can pierce with your blade as if they were kebobs.”

“I will keep that in mind.”

Barely restraining herself from rolling her eyes she shifted her attention back to the still smiling Caranthir. “Ge’els, introduce me if you please.” She said a bit more breathlessly than intended.

“Her Royal Highness, Crown Princess of Tir ná Lia-”

“Call me Áine.”

Ge’els nudged her chidingly but continued as if she hadn’t said anything. “And this is Caranthir Ar-Feiniel.”

Her smile brightened when he dipped his head respectfully before again crossing his legs and casually leaning on his tall staff. “Pleasure Áine.”

She knew without a doubt that the sound of his voice saying the words pleasure and Áine within the same sentence had her eyes widening a fraction and her heart skipping a beat. She was seriously rethinking this whole don’t make him fall in love with her promise she’d made to Ge’els. “Endlessly charmed.” She managed to say in a voice just above a whisper. “Well.” She pulled her gaze from those spectacular lips to glance at each of the men in turn. “I have much to do. Ge’els, see you in the morning?”

“Without doubt.” He said before leaning down to brush a kiss against her cheek.

“Caranthir. The invitation to my birthday extends to you as well.”

“I await the day.”

“So gallant.” She mused with a teasing wink before meeting Eredin’s gaze and her expression turning somber.

“Eredin.”

“Áine.”

Giving into the need to roll her eyes she turned on her heel, certain to allow her hips to sway a bit in a well practiced walk, she left the three men behind with her next destination- the library- in mind. It wasn’t but a moment before perfect lips in a perfect smile swept through her mind once more and she couldn’t resist a bit of a silly grin to accompany her on her journey.

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN/ Give a big welcome to Caranthir ;) and thanks for reading!!


	5. Amidst Rain and Roses

* * *

 

Avallac’h sat at his desk staring at the dominating vase of intricate design with no less than twenty four pink roses. Pink. The shade of the ridiculously scandalous dress, in which there was no fathomable reason for a princess to be wearing. Not a respectable one at least.

With the scent of roses surrounding him and the sight of such a pleasing form shrouded by thin material adorned with flounces and flowers, neither of which did anything to disguise - well anything - remaining forefront in his mind, he sighed and ran a hand down his face. She was a plague. Infecting his thoughts… his senses. His _life._

“I see you have gained Áine’s favor.” Auberon said as he entered the study and took his place at his desk.

Avallac’h sighed and dropped his hand from his face to again stare at the flowers. There was little he could do of the images forever imprinted in his mind of something he should never have seen to begin with. He waved a hand absentmindedly, finally addressing the king’s comment. “More likely punishment in response to my undertaking of her safety… Upon receiving word that your sister again ventured to the city unescorted, I intercepted her and have taken initiative to be that escort from now until a suitable replacement can be found. With your permission of course.”

“Do as you like.” Auberon replied quietly, his default answer to anything Avallac’h brought to his attention.

It made Avallac’h wonder at how one Muircetach could be so wild and… _busy_ , while the other seemed to have lost all care for anything, even regarding their only living kin. But in the end, he pushed the thought from his mind for it was not his concern. The stacks upon stacks of invoices needing to be paid and the treasury accounts to be audited, however were his concern.

It would be nearly impossible to get any of the work completed with the overbearing presence of the roses, so he quickly stood and reached for the vase.

“If you do not leave them, she will be hurt.” Auberon said and a glance toward the other man showed Avallac’h that he’d done so without looking away from his in-hand reports, reports he himself had written.

“She only sent them out of spite.” He protested, despising the hint of frustration he’d let slip out.

“You do not know her Avallac’h.”

The comment brought back the memory of his morning encounter, and through all his awkward attempts to not notice the curve of breasts and the- her- Avallac’h shook his head and forced himself to finish the thought, it was silly after all to be hesitant over a perfectly normal part of their anatomy. After dragging his attention, however briefly as he could manage, from her very obvious display of nipples through the sheer invisibility of her dress, he remembered the flash of hurt in her eyes at his attempts to reject her gift.

Biting back yet another sigh, he decided not to risk seeing that look in her eye again. It had made him uncomfortable, just as much as her appearance had, he realized. Carefully he placed the heavy vase in the far left corner of his desk and forced his attention to his work.

The hours were filled with the scratch of quill on parchment, the rustling of pages in account books and the repeated reminder to stop glancing at the roses. Occasionally a servant would be by to refill coffee or place a tray of food nearby though he only paid it small mind. He was in the midst of a horrifying situation being made to light as he calculated assets and debts.

The crown was spending a great deal of money but there was one glaring expense that was far more than what should have been permitted. Gowns. He calculated dress after dress, feeling his blood rush quicker with each newly discovered invoice until finally he dropped his quill and sat back.

Countless dresses and all manner of clothing, _expensive_ dresses. With dirt dusted across as if they were a tavern maid’s. Dresses in which she _gardened_. He thought of dirty hands on white breeches and stuffed into small riding gloves. Of intricially designed and embellished dresses with stains of green and brown.

Abruptly and without explanation to his king, he stormed from the study, taking a handful of invoices with him. It occurred to him as he made the final steps to cross the bridge leading into the garden that he might have to search the vast gardens for hours before he found Áine, but he did not allow that to deter him.

Avallac’h found the area strangely abandoned where he’d before expected guests to mill about and servants to pluck their weeds but he never came across a soul. Not even someone with whom he could ask if they’d seen the princess. Instead he found himself alone, walking through soggy paths of wet grass and mud. Perhaps it was the lingering threat of storms that had driven all indoors… Perhaps Áine would have done the same.

“You!”

He’d just begun wondering if it were possible that Áine was not in the gardens at all when the sound of the princess’s voice shouting from some distance caught his attention and he looked around a cherry blossom tree with a swing hanging from a branch to find her staring at him with a pale, stricken expression… and a mud splattered dress, albeit more appropriate to be seen about in.

Holding his fist full of invoices up in the air he called out in a businesslike tone. “I’ve come to address your-”

“Hang whatever you’ve come to address!” She shouted at him, causing his back to straighten defensively.

From this distance he could make out the heavy motion of her shoulders, a sign of her extreme agitation but he told himself that it was not his concern. Her reckless spending was.

“No Áine, I will be heard.” He demanded and moved towards her, stepping over a small row of frilly looking grass. “Its come to my attention that you’ve been spending copious amounts of money.”

“Just shut up!” She cried out in a shrill voice. “You- you don’t even care, do you? About what you’ve done?”

He stopped abruptly and stared at her, now close enough that he could see the tears streaming down her cheeks, at a complete loss as to what he did about anything yet.

“Stay away from me Crevan Espane- your opinions and your judgement and your lousy skills in alchemy- just keep them out of my presence, and out of my garden!” Her voice thickened with every word she shouted before spinning on her heel and disappearing through trees and flowers.

Avallac’h only blinked once before giving pursuit. Her last comment about his alchemy skill did nothing but confuse him and he assumed she must be up to more of her childish games. He had to admit it was a surprising one and a bit effective for he did feel the tendrils of unwarranted guilt, though for what he could not be sure of for he had nothing to be guilty of. She was madness embodiment. Therefore, he was not about to be dismayed by her newest set of antics.

“It’s not only about the money Your Highness, well- in a large part I suppose it is- but more the disregard you have in the care for the garments!” He shouted after her, close enough to just catch glimpses of her before she disappeared again, forcing him to pick up his pace.

“Go. Away. You absolute defiler of all that is good in my life!” She’d spun around, her pale gold hair falling from pins into a wild mess around her tear stained face. She now stood midway through an arch of ancient masonry covered in roses of assorted colors. Roses that looked… sick. “First my brother and niece, and now my _roses_!”

Avallac’h was still as much at a loss as before as he frowned at the roses and then Áine. “I do admit to guilt in not believing you about the state of the flowers. But I fail to see how it is my fault that they’re dying.”

Her lips parted in a loudly drawn in gasp. “Not your fault?” She spun on her heel, and he just realized that she was barefoot, before disappearing through the arch, forcing him to follow her through.

He glanced around the small ruin with a towering tree in the center, a tree he noted could be seen from the city if one were near the falls. A statue of a naked woman posed sensually lay even with a far wall- He took a step closer- a statue whose face-

“This was the only rose bush that was dying.”

Her voice drew his attention from the familiar face etched in stone to see her pointing at a very dead rose bush.

“Until you brought me your magical wonder c- cure!” Her shout dissolved into outright sobs as she dropped to her knees and cried into her hands.

Avallac’h felt panic and unease unlike anything he’d ever felt before at the sight before him… there was a strength in Áine which she always proudly had on display, always taking every situation with a teasing smile or a cutting glare but never- never _tears._ For the first time… he had no idea how to react. Did he offer comfort? Would she accept comfort? He knew he should do something, he _had_ to for her cries were tearing at him to the point it was becoming difficult for him to breathe in his panic.

Quietly he knelt to one knee before her and lifted his empty hand as if to rest it on her shoulder before hesitating. He’d touched her before, for various reasons, helping her to mount her horse, escorting her up a long staircase, and… forcing her to accept that potion.

He sighed and placed his hand on the back of her shoulder, moving his palm in small circles across the soft fabric of her dress. “I am sorry if I did anything to exacerbate the problem Princess… have you tried-”

Áine sat up slowly, dropping her hands to her lap as she gave him a helpless look that had his chest tightening. “I’ve tried everything Avallac’h. I mean… this is the one thing that I know _everything_ about. I’ve- I’ve written books about plant diseases… but this?” She tossed a hand wildly at the dead roses adorning arches and bushes. “This is not a disease. It’s a _curse._ ”

Though she no longer heaved soul wracking sobs as before, tears continued to silently fall, taking her cosmetics with them.

“That is an interesting theory… one I’d very much like to look into with you.” Avallac’h had no reasonable idea as to what had him offering such a thing, but in the end he ceased to care, for her tears stopped when her look of surprise turned to one of hesitant relief. “As way of apology…” He continued.

“Forgiven!” A wide smile lit up her face, a beautiful sight to behold if one were to allow themselves to think such things of someone so far above themselves… despite reminding himself he had no right, he smiled back feeling a strange mixture of relief and bewilderment.

“Just like that? I’m forgiven?”

Her smile faded, and gaze slid away from him to sweep across her beloved roses. “For this… yes of course. Do you recall the story of my freckles?” She didn’t look at him but must have caught the motion of his nod from the corner of her eye for she continued on after that small pause. “Every memory I have of my father, of Auberon before he became king, is of here in this small ruin. And you apologized for not taking me seriously and offered to help…” She looked back toward him, unsmiling and intense. “Not everything is forgiven… but this, I will forgive this.”

Avallac’h had to admit to himself that he hadn’t expected such… sensibility in her response and reaction. After all his negligence had obviously brought her a great deal of distress, and it was a strong reminder of the oceans between them in regard to rank. She was the current heir to the crown and he’d treated her abominably… perhaps instead of forcing her into the role as he simultaneously attempted to pawn her off onto someone else to deal with, he ought to be teaching her himself.

Guiding her in the steps she would need to take so she might be a successful ruler as her family had been since they first made their conquest of their home. Rather than his irritation and censure, he should offer patience and stability.

Realizing that not only were they still knelt in the wet grass and mud, but that his hand still rested on her shoulder, he stood, her head tilting back to look up at him and he held the hand out to her instead. Unlike when he did the same to help her mount her horse, she accepted immediately, and he eased her to standing. She stumbled lightly with a small gasp and pressed a hand to her thigh while he caught her by the elbow, but before he could question if she was alright, she pulled herself away as if nothing untoward had just happened.

“The roses on me are the only ones not yet tainted.” Áine said, walking a few steps to the statue.

Avallac’h bit back a tired sigh and forced his gaze to the stormy skies in time to see a small flash of lightning. “I see my suspicions were correct then… who…” He wasn’t certain he wished to know who had seen the princess without clothing enough to have sculpted her out of marble in great… detail.

“Why Ge’els of course. Sometimes I manage to get him to keep his art traditional.” There was a small laugh from her which drew his gaze from the sky to see her looking at him over her shoulder. “It’s quite alright Avallac’h… you can look closer if you wish. Not much more than what you’ve already seen.”

“I’d rather not indulge nor remember such improprieties. You are the crown princess after all.” He managed to say in a polite tone he often used when conducting business, despite his conflicting feelings welling up inside of him at the knowledge that this was a work of Ge’els.

“Believe me, I’d rather I wasn’t. Perhaps then you would look at me as if I were of the people rather than a statue on a pedestal.”

“I don’t see how you can say I look at you at all as so when I’m literally standing right here refusing to look at an actual statue of _you_.” He rolled his eyes in the moment of having forgotten himself and his new outlook in how he would deal with her. It seemed this new leaf of his would be more difficult than he’d believed.

But she broke out into a peal of laughter that last several moments. It was her usual lovely laugh and slightly chased away his self-exasperation. “I’m finding that you, Avallac’h, are not as dull as you want everyone to believe.”

He told himself not to be pleased at her words, but he could not stop the small smile that lifted the corner of his lips. “I promise you, I’m very dull.”

A crack of thunder and sudden downpour of rain brought a squeal from Áine as she attempted to shield her eyes. “Come on!” She shouted over the sound and grasped him by his free hand and tugged him along behind her.

He could have easily pulled away, to have followed behind her without fear of losing sight, but for reasons he wouldn’t allow himself to think of, he instead held on, ensuring he was just a step behind her as she led him to wherever she had in mind. It was also in the back of his mind that there was no need to rush, they were already thoroughly soaked, but again, he let her be.

They weaved through stone lined paths and crossed bridges, thunder rolling through the air and lightning putting on a spectacular display, something Áine paused to watch with breathless awe each time before finally dragging him into a tower. Her solarium if he remembered correctly.

Avallac’h remained silent even as he followed her still, only now they were out of the rain and making their way up stairs. All around him were little pieces of Áine he quickly realized once they reached the top floor and she lit the room up with a wave of her hand. She at last dropped his hand and began to wring out her long hair that had completely fallen loose from its pins while he took a moment to sweep a hand over his own. His eye was caught by several frameless paintings nailed to the wall, their edges curling in age. Roses, waterfalls, rivers… all were of her garden, places he recognized now that he’d been in there so often lately.

She must have caught the direction for she stepped up beside him and tilted her head slightly toward him. “Are you an artist Avallac’h? Do you paint?”

“I’ve managed a few pieces.” He glanced down at her, meeting her upturned gaze. “However more often it’s works related to studies. Discovering ancient stories in the forms of runes and primitive art and painting their replicas to study further while at home.”

Áine’s gaze turned speculative as she stepped around him to face him head on. “I wonder… you enjoy that kind of thing correct? Discovering and piecing together history?”

He narrowed his gaze at her slightly. “Correct.”

“Alright… what if I offered to show you some… primitive art that no one outside of my direct family has ever seen.”

Avallac’h had to admit, she had his interest without a doubt. But he was also shrewd. “And the cost for the entry into this exclusive circle?”

“You stop pressuring Auberon and Ciri and instead try to find a real solution.” Her expression was serious, but he could make out the hint of desperation shadowing her silver eyes.

The trade was uneven, and he had the feeling she knew that. She was asking him to give up their current only hope of saving their world all for the chance to look at a few cave drawings… lucky for them both that he had already begun working towards just that thing, not that he would divulge that to her.

“Agreed.” The sigh of happiness she let out as she smiled up at him tugged at something deep inside his chest.

  “Right this way then.” She said sweetly and swept past him, picking up her sodden dress from around her calves as she went.

“Right now?” He asked a bit startled.

“Yes. We’re already at the entrance after all.” She said lightly without looking back.

It was not how he’d planned to spend his evening… but she had his curiosity and to be honest, anything he’d had planned could wait.

* * *

 

“I feel we still must address the way you carelessly treat your clothing, expensive clothing at that.” Avallac’h spoke from just behind her as Áine led him through the door in the floor of her tower. It was a small wooden entrance hidden by shadows and easily overlooked but the added camouflage of an old rug ensuring to no one - if any were to ever enter without her permission - would ever know it was there.

The spiraling steps leading into the caverns below were cut into the stone walls and slick with moisture. Keeping a hand on the cold wall to keep herself steady she watched her feet, barely remembering to summon a small ball of white flames to follow them down and light the path. “Do you honestly believe you have any say in this matter Avallac’h?”

She was still feeling rather generous after so readily forgiving him for what he’d done to her roses and perhaps from his ready acceptance of her bargain. But she couldn’t resist teasing him just a little longer.

“Seeing as every day your brother entrusts more and more to me, it’s not without reason that I have the ability to restrict your access to funds.” He said in a terribly serious tone that had her rolling her eyes.

“Now I take back anything I ever said about you being exciting. You really are a bore.” She came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the stairwell and turned to look up at him, taking in the shadows and contours of his exasperated expression... and ignoring the luminescent blue her light turned his eyes. “It’s called magic my dear… maybe you’ve heard of it?”

Despite the small lift of a corner of his lips, his eyes narrowed. “I know a thing or two about it. And it’s not an excuse to be negligent with the care of expensive items… or laboratory equipment and the challenging work of others. Magic is not to be abused.”

Her smile turning sweet, she summoned a bit of glamouring magic, turning his hair from slate to bright pink. He couldn’t see it of course, it was just a bit of fun for herself and it cheered her up immeasurably to see such a serious stick in the mud with his devastating glare that made her feel more than a little sultry, looking absolutely ridiculous.

Áine could not hold back her snort of laughter despite the hand over her mouth. In return Avallac’h lifted a brow at her hysterics, his glare turning suspicious. “As with many pleasures in life Avallac’h, a small amount of abuse is fun and high recommended. Now enough with your lessons on propriety and threats of reigning me into submission. We’ve a long way to go.”

Without waiting for his reply, she turned and resumed her careful descent, releasing the spell as she went. “It’s been some time since I’ve been down here and even longer since Auberon has.”

“Where exactly is ‘down here?’”

“Underground hot springs-” Áine cut off with a yelp as her bare foot of her aching leg slipped on the slick step. Strong hands catching her arms as her back hit a solid chest prevented her fall, holding her tightly while she tried to calm her erratically beating heart. Much more difficult do when the gentle touch of a breath slowly brushed against her neck. A small moan escaped, and her head fell back against Avallac’h’s shoulder.

“That… would have been bad.” She whispered before realizing the state in which she was comfortably lounging against her annoying if not closest thing she had to a mortal enemy, making wanton noises and likely giving him all sorts of undesirable ideas. She enjoyed making him uncomfortable but this… Ge’els would say it was a dangerous game to let him believe she might actually… _desire_ him.

She abruptly straightened, pulling away from his hold perhaps a bit more roughly than was needed but there was a wall she wanted to keep firmly in place. Certainly he was handsome but he was also a controlling bore and who knew what he would do with knowledge that he could easily have power over her if just him breathing on her was enough to make her moan like a touch starved harlot… The moment couldn’t have been more than a couple of seconds but with the quick beating of her heart it felt much longer.

For the remainder of the journey down the stairs, the silence was tense and loud, but Áine had no wish to try and ease it. She did wonder at his thoughts and hoped that he didn’t think anything of the noises she’d made, perhaps filing them away as noises of relief rather than _need._

Áine bit back a sigh as they finally reached the bottom. She was eager to get this over with. To take a virtual stranger into a place not meant for such people, let him explore a few moments and then shoo him away, maybe even staying behind herself to float around at her leisure.

She led a still quiet Avallac’h into the first cavern chamber, releasing her ball of magic as she went into a tall domed room adorned with beautiful stalactites and mites and sweeping curtains of mineral deposits, all turned a magical blue from the glow of the deep pool below. Magic slipped through the air, caressing her skin as much as the gently rising steam and the warmth in the air warded off the chill of the rain. The path down to the waters edge was steep and winding but Áine knew it would be well worth it once she sank her tired body into the hot water.

“Where are the drawings?” Avallac’h asked when they neared the shore.

Áine smiled to herself despite her anxiety over her horrific reaction to him earlier. “Do not fear sage, I’ll not lead you wrong. You could however take in the beauty around you and just… be. No one but us is down here after all and I swear to not tell a soul that you relaxed for half a heartbeat.”

“Yes, I’m surrounded by beauty but- what are you doing?”

Áine had led them to the waters edge and while he’d begun to speak whatever nonsense he had wished to utter, she’d began to loosen the ties of her dress.

“We have to swim there…” She glanced over her shoulder to find him staring at her with a properly horrified expression. “You truly are confusing Avallac’h. Do you want me to take proper care of the dress or not? It’s either that and ruin it. Or perhaps you wish for me to drown with the material tangling around my legs.” His horrified expression turned into a glare which she answered with a roll of her eyes. “Allow me to put you out of your misery then.” She roughly pulled her dress from her arms and down her chest, revealing the thin white underdress below. “For your sake I shall leave on this tedious piece of clothing and hopefully I don’t drown.”

She was being dramatic, knowing full well she could swim perfectly in any manner of dress, but as she’d told him earlier, he could honestly stand to relax just the slightest.

“I’m certain you will be fine, and if not, I’ll rescue you somehow.” He said and moved to step into the water.

“What are you doing?” She asked abruptly, finding it was her turn to be properly horrified.

Avallac’h sent her a slightly confused look. “You said we were to swim…”

With her eyes wide and disbelieving she waved a hand up and down toward him. “We are, but you can’t honestly mean to do so fully clothed.” When he simply stared at her, Áine’s jaw dropped with an astounded laugh. “You have to be the most ridiculous person I’ve ever had the misfortune to know! Avallac’h, if you fear I’ll judge, you need not… After all I’ve already seen nearly everything you have to offer. Swimming in that is going to be uncomfortable and burdensome and I’d rather not have to do this with you smelling of wet wool. Disrobe.” She said firmly before pushing her dress down her hips and tossing it to hang over a short stalagmite, leaving her in her underdress.

With his glare carefully averted to some point over the top of her head he began with his belt, quickly removing each article until he sat on a small boulder and began to unlace his boots. She told herself not to watch… she was in no state to be watching a man - any man period - undress, but she did. He’d left his white long sleeved shirt on, laced, and tucked into breeches that were settled low on his hips. A fetching figure all the same, especially with the dark lines of his Aen Saevherne markings just barely visible through thin material and disappearing below the waist of his breeches.

Just how far down did they go… the thought sent a wave of desire straight to her core and she quickly realized this might be a mistake. She needed to put some space between them and give her eyes and mind some other occupation. Boring cave paintings should do just the thing in reminding her traitorous body that she was above this. Inciting desire in others was all well and fine but to have herself lighting on fire without the damn man even trying? Ridiculous.

Before he’d removed the second boot, Áine stepped into the water, hot enough that time was needed to adjust, but relaxing to the point where that same moan as before was pulled from her chest without care. To the wind with what he thought of her, for this was what she needed more than anything else. After wading out deep enough she slowly turned to allow herself to float on her back, the slightest of currents pulling her further out.

With Avallac’h out of sight, Áine found she did feel better, paired with the hot water soothing her body, she felt herself drift off weightlessly. Down here, there were no heartaches and worries. She could pretend that everything was perfect… living a perfect life in a perfect world. Her brother wasn’t a broken shell, her world wasn’t dying, and she was happy.

Her hair floated out around her, grazing her bare arms and the cavern ceiling rippled a glowing blue, pulling a content sigh from her. She was in a state of complete relaxation until Avallac’h’s muffled voice forced her to pull her head up with a disgruntled sigh. He was tall enough that he could still stand where she had to tread to stay afloat.

“What?” She snapped a bit unfairly and irritable, but it was his fault she was in the need for relaxation to begin with.

 “Now what?” He repeated with a roll of his eyes.

It was lucky for him that she was becoming ever more eager to be done with his presence. “We dive. This way.” She said before drawing a deep breath and sinking beneath the surface. An opening at the bottom of the pool led to another cavern chamber, smaller but even more beautiful. The air was cooler but only because of the opening in the far cavern wall, hiding the world from view with a heavy waterfall, the source of the hot water.

Once they surfaced, Áine drew in a deep breath and pushed her hair from her face before swimming to the waterfall and pulling herself up onto the stone ledge just to the side of the falling hot water. Her body felt as if it had been turned to jelly and it took her a moment for strength to return. As she waited, Avallac’h followed suit and pulled himself up onto the ledge, his gaze carefully avoiding her.

He didn’t wait for the relaxing effects of the hot spring to wear away, instead he immediately stood and kept his attention on the paintings adorning the stone walls further down the rocky ledge. Leaning back on her hands with her feet kicking lazily though the water she convinced herself that she deserved the enjoyment that came from watching a well-formed male with a soaking wet white shirt plastered to his skin, leaving very little unseen. Even his already form fitting dark breeches outlined everything there was to be outlined. It wasn’t that she found Avallac’h himself attractive, after all he wasn’t the tallest or the most defined, but it had been more than a long moment since she’d enjoyed the visual pleasure of such a sight. She was a series of frustrating conflicts she knew…

He could never know of course… which is why when he glanced her way  she made certain her expression remained annoyed and bored. “You said that no one comes down here?” He asked with a sense of awe in his voice.

With a sigh and carefully stood and made her way to stand beside him. “No one but the ruling family. And even now Auberon has abandoned it. Only myself.” Áine couldn’t keep the sadness from her voice and hoped he didn’t pick up on it.

“I see… what to you think of the drawings?”

Áine dragged her gaze to the drawing on the stone, the sweeping curves and straight lines that somewhat vaguely looked like bodies and faces. “One of my ancestors probably telling the tale of building Tir ná Lia after gaining control over the unicorns and humans who had populated here first.” She turned her gaze back to him. “Am I correct?”

Avallac’h dropped his gaze and cleared his throat. “Of course. That is exactly what it says.” If not for the reddening of his ears and the rough tone of his voice, Áine might have believed him, strictly out of pure impatience to have this done with.

But as it were, it was obvious he was lying and there was a wicked voice urging her to find out what he was hiding. “Avallac’h… you wouldn’t be keeping something from me, now would you?” She said in a teasing voice. “Tell me… what do the markings truly mean?”

He heaved a long sigh and shook his head. She watched as his eyes trace over the lines slowly. “Queen Órlaith… your namesake I believe. First queen of the Aen Elle before we’d even begun to call ourselves so… something that we now do thanks to her.”

As he went on about more of the history of their first queen, history she already knew and felt he was probably reciting out of pure nervousness from whatever he was avoiding telling her, Áine’s gaze fell to watching his lips. They moved easily as he spoke, and really his whole manner eased, and expression turned… light and nearly happy. She realized that he truly enjoyed speaking of history, it was not just a delay tactic. A small smile lifted the corners of her lips at the knowledge. It… was pleasing to listen to his level voice. Even if she did already know every fact he was saying of Órlaith, she didn’t mind.

“You are however wrong about only direct royals finding their way down here.”

Áine blinked up at him when he suddenly moved his gaze to hers. “What do you mean? Auberon told me so himself.”

Avallac’h nodded before looking away again. “No doubt that he did. Tales told by word of mouth for generations tend to become twisted and fantastical.”

“So, who else came down here? With Órlaith?”

Again, he cleared his throat and nodded to a particular drawing. “Her lover.”

Áine’s eyes widened and she immediately looked between him and the art. “You have my attention sage.”

“These are an account of their… encounters.”

She knew what he meant by the word encounters and she eagerly wished for him to go into detail about them, but with his obvious embarrassed reaction… Áine was beginning to suspect that the sage had never had any _encounters_ of his own. And that in itself was more shocking than the fact a Queen dallied about with a lover in the hidden hot springs.

To tease him over that would be crossing an unfair line… but still she wondered how did one live as long as he and not give in to the pleasures of flesh… perhaps he didn’t have that particular need, which was in no way impossible. It’s just… she suspected that he did feel desire. If he didn’t then why would he carefully keep his gaze from dropping below her chin… and just that morning he’d hardly dragged his gaze from her thinly covered breast.

Not one to seek out the pleasures herself as it would be much too easy to have a lover believe he had any power because she took him to her bed, she could relate in a way. Not that she hadn’t taken anyone for a lover at all, in fact she was rather experienced in how to give and take… but it had been a long time. Much too long if her lingering gazes over his body were any indication.

“Are they detailed in their encounters?” Áine said in a breathless voice that she feared revealed too much of the arousal rushing through her veins.

“They are.” His throat rose as he swallowed and Áine was without a doubt now… he felt desire just as much as she did, only he acted as if he’d never given in to such needs. She bit her lip as her mind brushed against the thought… would he pleasure himself once he was alone?

She certainly was considering the thought for herself, but she would be imagining a pair of eyes sparkling with mischief and an incredibly sensual mouth. Perhaps she should… Áine shook her head. Taking on a lover was just too complicated. Caranthir would no doubt be able to satisfy this need plaguing her as of late… but he would become to expect too much.

She needed space… Avallac’h’s presence was beginning to overwhelm her, between his obvious dislike of her and his hardly present conscious… not to forget what he’d done to her roses though she claimed to have forgiven him of that… he was not worth it. She thought she’d delight in the knowledge that these markings were scandalous and could be used to tease the sage… but instead they were digging up emotions and feels she’d rather leave alone.

So instead of demanding he go into detail, Áine turned away and made her back to the pool of water.

“Where are you going?” He asked from behind her.

“I’m hungry and exhausted. Stay if you like.” She tried to turn her voice icy, to cool the heat swirling through her. Of course, the hot water did nothing to help but she forced herself not to linger in the inviting hot pool. Without waiting to see if he were going to take her offer or follow, she dived below the surface and swam for the other chamber. She didn’t stop to redress, instead grasping the material in a tight fist, mainly because it turned out that he followed her after all, though she couldn’t imagine why.

Áine hoped to gain some distance from him, certain that he would redress, he was the epitome of propriety after all, but he surprised her by simply scooping up his clothing and using his long stride to catch up to her. She’d forgotten to summon a magical light, only realizing it as he did so himself.

Áine stiffened when he touched her elbow, despising the heat caused by such a simple touch, one he was doing out of duty just as he had after he followed her to town. Perhaps that made her despise him even more. Duty… he would never actually touch her out of desire, she was unworthy in his eyes even for his prodigal son. But she couldn’t exactly pull away either. Her leg ached, muscles were still relaxed from the soothing waters, and the stones were slick as ever… adding another layer to her increasing anger.

The moment she neared the exit however she purposely pulled away. “Cover the door with the rug.” Again, she made an attempt to be cold and left him in the tower and escaped into the cool early night. The rain had stopped but she hardly noticed as she was stopped abruptly from making her way to her room by the sight of a man in the distance. “Ge’els.” She said simply, her shoulders relaxing.

“Áine, I was looking for… Avallac’h?” Ge’els ended with a questioning voice as the other man came to stand beside her.

“I was showing him…” Áine didn’t know how to say what she’d been showing Avallac’h. Despite her relationship and love of Ge’els, she’d never taken him down there. He’d never even been in the tower. Something he was clearly thinking at the exact same moment as his curious gaze slipped over the wet appearance of them both. She glanced down and bit back a sigh… her underdress was formed to every curve of her body and made the situation just that much worse in her head. Ge’els would be sure to mention it when they were alone… not that she could blame him. She would have done the same.

“I was examining old - ancient to be precise - markings in the caves below the tower. They were made by Queen Órlaith!” Avallac’h said with such enthusiasm as he failed realize the true nature of their situation as Ge’els viewed it, but she smiled slightly and rolled her eyes.

“Such a sage.” She muttered, glancing at him with a shake of her head. He ducked his head slightly, a small curve coming to the corner of his mouth.

“I hope you remember your manners Avallac’h… the princess has only ever allowed our king to enter the tower… as to how you both came into such a state of soaking wet, I fail to understand. Caves? Below the tower? Fascinating indeed.” Ge’els drawled, knowing exactly what he was saying.

And Avallac’h had just the reaction Áine knew the Viceroy had been hoping to elicit for his body stiffened and he stared at her for a long moment. “My thanks.” Was all he said in the end before nodding his head in a last-ditch effort to show respect before striding away.

Áine watched him leave before rolling her eyes at Ge’els and stepping around him to make her way to her room. “Fabulous, now who knows what he’s thinking.”

“He’s thinking that he overstepped his precisely drawn boundaries.” He said, following behind her a step. “What I can only guess at however is what it is _you_ are thinking.”

“Right this moment? I’m thinking of taking Caranthir as a lover. It’s been a long time after all.” She snapped and opened her door roughly.

“No, you’re not. The boy wishes to marry you and knowing that, you would never give him such hopes.” He followed her in. “Not after this morning.”

“Fine… I don’t honestly know what I’m thinking, or even what I’m doing right now and I could really use a moment alone to figure it out.” She said in frustration and limped over to her bed, forgetting her hunger all together in her desire to just let this horrible day end.

“As you wish my love… but change first at least.”

She didn’t reply as he let himself out, instead she ignored his last order and slipped into bed with her still damp underdress and tangled hair. Closing her eyes and sighing against the soft pillow, every time a vision of Avallac’h tried to drift through her mind she forced him back with a vision of Caranthir instead. It was difficult but at last she fell asleep, however while she was awake she had some control over her thoughts.

Her dreams however were not so cooperative.

* * *

 


	6. Expectations

* * *

 

“You should join me Avallac’h… the water will make you feel…” Áine closed her eyes and sighed a sound of pleasure, a sound that burned through every vein in his body. She stood with the waters nearly to her chin, her arms outstretched languidly to either side of her body, fingers grazing just below while slowly rotating her neck. Her pale hair fanned out around her, shimmering through the water as it was pulled along with her motions.

Avallac’h wanted to do as she said, wanted to immerse himself in the hot waters of the spring but… doing so would put him within reach of her. And in that moment as he sat at the pools edge he was safe from falling into temptation… As it was, he found it difficult to focus on the sketch book laid across his lap, an incomplete drawing of runes and their interpretations scrawling across the pages.

“Am I going to have to resort to… underhanded tactics to convince you?” She said in that teasing voice of hers that had him tightening his hand around his graphite filled stylus.

He knew what he should do… tell her that anything she tried would have little sway in convincing him of anything. But he was intrigued, breathlessly so. The gleam in her silver eyes paired with the subtle way she pulled on her lip should have been clue enough… but blame it on his insatiable need to know everything - he decided to test her.

A simple arch of a brow from him was all it took for him to issue his challenge, one she quickly accepted with a low sound from her throat. His body felt as if he were surrounded by smoldering coals being stoked into flame as she trailed her gaze down his body before bringing it back up to meet him dead on. There was need and desire clearly shinning back at him and the thought that she might be just as in need as him had him nearly unlacing his breeches right then.

His hands were stayed however as she began to move toward him through the water, his lungs freezing and body tensing in anticipation, gaze greedily watching as the water lowered further, revealing more of her with every step she took.

Áine’s graceful neck, shoulders veiled by the thin fabric of her underdress, hair clinging to every curve… Avallac’h swallowed as the weight of the water pulled a strap of her dress down her shoulder, and even more of her as the water then fell from her breast. Unbiddenly he slid a hand up his thigh before remembering himself enough to pause just before reaching his laces.

He’d hoped the move had been subtle and missed but it seemed nothing ever escaped her notice for it was enough for her eyes to widen in delight. “Avallac’h, were you about to touch yourself?” She whispered as she continued to approach him, the water slipping away from her hips.

The thin fabric, transparent and clinging to the apex of her thighs brought a curse to his lips which he had to clench his jaw to keep from escaping. She was beautiful, a form made for desire and driving him mad. Images of what he wanted to do to her flashed through his mind as he unabashedly he took her in, every curve and line, shadow and barest view of what the wet undress did nothing to hide.

He still had yet to guess at what her true intentions were, but whatever they were, he awaited in eager anticipation. Waiting as she stepped free of the pool but then pausing to pull her long hair from around her shoulders. The sight of her closing her eyes and arching her back, her full breasts straining against the dress as she freed herself of her tangled hair had him drawing a deep breath between his teeth. He wanted to touch her, to run his hands everywhere the dress clung to her.

When Áine dropped her gaze to him once more she moved to stand over him, prompting him to tilt his head back in order to maintain the contact that was leaving him so breathless and aching with need. “Let’s move this shall we?” She nodded toward the journal now laying forgotten over one of his thighs. Immediately he set it, along with the stylus aside and straightened as she slowly stepped a foot over him and lowered herself to straddle his hips.

She had to pull her dress high up her hips which gave him immediate access to resting his palms on her bare, pool heated skin. A sigh escaped them both, mingling as she brought her lips to a breath before his, her hand tangling in the hair at the back of his neck. The weight of her pressing against his arousal drew an instinctive roll of his hips, the movement agony for him but the sound of her catching her breath made everything he was feeling - pleasure mixed with painful need - worth it.

As her lips grazed against his, her eyes slipped closed and a heartbeat later his did as well despite his wish to keep them open just to continue taking in the beautiful sight of her. His hands slipped up her thighs and around to cup her backside and in a smooth move, he tilted his chin and firmly captured her mouth with his just as he pulled her tight against his arousal.

He consumed her whimper, dragging his tongue against her bottom lip until a moment later she parted her lips and he slipped between them. He wanted this, to have her coming undone in his arms but when she began to roll her hips against him in rhythmic passion, he quickly found himself as the one losing control. His hands tightened around the mounds of flesh as he added his strength to her movements, grinding her against his hardened length trapped beneath the waist of his breeches.

“Avallac’h…” Áine moaned against his lips.

“Say it again.” He opened his eyes, pulling back slightly.

“Avallac’h.” She obliged him with a sultry grin.

He gave in to his desires and reached for his laces, groaning as her gaze eagerly followed his movements. Once he freed himself he was given pause when she dropped a hand to wrap around his wrist.

“I want to watch you.” She said, voice husky and gaze dark with desire. He would do anything she wanted if it meant she kept looking at him like that. Without hesitation, her hand still holding his wrist, he wrapped his hand around his length and slowly pleasured himself.

“Slower.” She whispered but instead of following her wishes, he increased his pace, fire pooling low in his stomach. “Stop Avallac’h, you’ll regret this if you do.”

But he couldn’t stop. Instead, he closed his eyes and dropped his head back on the soft rock wall.

Soft?

Avallac’h slowly blinked open his gaze, expecting to find Áine’s piercing silver eyes watching him to instead find a plate of half eaten food inches from his face. Shock vibrated through him in waves as he finally managed to come to awareness and he glanced down to see he was still firmly holding his cock.

“Fuck!” He shouted and released himself as if he’d been burned, realization of what just happened - what he’d been _doing_ and _why_ tearing through him.

Drawing the blanket he’d kicked off at some point during his dream - _nightmare -_ back over his naked body, Avallac’h then collapsed onto the mattress with a thump and stared at the ceiling with wide eyed, heart pounding horror as the remnants of his nightmare lingered… the effects still painfully present along with frustration simmering in every vein. Whether he was more appalled by the dream itself or his lack of control when it came to nearly satisfying the need that had been plaguing him for a week now - albeit temporarily satisfying it - with _her_ image firmly in his mind. Her voice whispering in his ear, her touch tracing fire across his skin...

Avallac’h groaned as a new wave of desire raced through him and a new conclusion came to him. He had to do something drastic. He couldn’t go on pretending his baser needs weren’t becoming an issue… this wasn’t the first of such dreams - though this was the first time that he came close to doing something beyond improper…

He sighed and rolled to sitting, setting his bare feet on the cold stone floor. It wasn’t the act of pleasuring one’s self he had issue with… it was the imagery that was creating the pressing and frustrating need to do so. To do something so base and animalistic while dreaming of the crown princess… Already Avallac’h felt the weight of horror making it difficult to breathe.

He didn’t want to renew his contact with his former mistress… but it was a better alternative than continuing down the dangerous path he currently hurdled down with reckless abandon. In the end he had a duty to the crown, one that did not involve using the image of its princess - however desirable it was to do so - in order to satiate his bodily needs. In the end, he still had to be able to look her and his king in the eye.

Wearily, as his body at last began to loosen its stubborn hold on him, Avallac’h began to prepare for the long day ahead, that is until a new realization sent a renewed wave of horror through him - he’d been out of his mind, in a very accessible way. Áine had happened upon him once already as he slept and there was nothing to keep her from doing so again.

If a meteorite had decided to fall from the sky, aimed through the nearest window to strike him down, he would have welcomed it to do so at the thought of Áine waltzing in as free as she pleased to find him in such… a predicament.

It seemed there would be several changes to his routine after this catastrophic experience. The first being to remember to seek out his personal chambers rather than working till he fell into the nearest bed to sleep. The second was to contact ĺne and proposing to resume their business as soon possible. She would no doubt be willing despite her irritation when he’d called off their arrangement some time ago.

He’d lost interest and had rarely gone to see her as it was. Ine however had been under delusions that there was more to be gained with a more stable relationship with him and had offered for such which he’d firmly denied. That did not keep her from occasionally writing to him with open invitations, one of which he would finally be replying to.

With an aching head at the thought of visiting her over perfumed rooms, as well as a body aching from denial, he left for the study, forcing his spine straight and chin high. He was going to get through this day, hopefully without sight of Áine and preferably without further thought of her.

* * *

 

Crawling through the even rows of white daffodils, Áine plucked at every blade of unwanted weed with the energy of a hardened warrior on the frontlines of a battle of conquer and extermination. The ground was soft and damp from the most recent morning rain, the mud streaking her bare knees and feet as she went but she welcomed the cooling effect on her work warmed skin.

Her dress lay over a branch of a nearby hawthorn tree, already soiled beyond recognition of its original pale mint color but had become a hinderance once she’d come to realize just how much work needed to be put into this particular area of her garden. She’d slipped off the dress and slippers, tossed them aside, and continued to work in her undress with a vengeance.

Today had been set aside for putting the final touches on her birthday soirée… a small gathering of every soul in Tir ná Lia with an ounce of importance expected to be invited and she’d yet to even give Selly her final list… she was avoiding it just as she was avoiding countless things at the moment.

But as she’d walked through the garden with Selly, giving her instructions on who was expected to mingle where, the areas to be roped off, and otherwise discussing how perfect the theme of enchanting spring rain would be when she’d come across the horrifying state of the daffodils.

There was little she could do for her roses… but the daffodils just needed some tender and loving care to bring them back into a well-groomed display. Dismissing Selly with orders to inform the enchanters about the party décor, she’d happily - no desperately - welcome the dirty work. She might have to spend an extra amount of time in the bath and even longer fixing her nails and medicating her blisters, but it was turning out to be very rewarding.

Not only were her daffodils beginning to look amazing, but she was doing a rather spectacular job of keeping her mind well and far away from _that_ dream she’d rolled out of bed during. As she hunted down the unsightly and invasive weeds, she hummed her favorite songs, those of which would be played during her party. Perfectly content. Nothing was wrong in her little corner of the universe at the moment.

But every so often, her hums becoming more and more quiet as thoughts of just how unperfect her little corner was at the moment, would slip through her mental blockades and she’d begin to use more force and finesse than was required with clawing out the weeds. She hadn’t seen her brother in over a week. She hadn’t left the palace in over a week. She hadn’t had a peaceful night’s sleep in over a week. She hadn’t -

Áine sat back on her folded legs with a growl of frustration. It was happening again… she was beginning to think of _him_ and when she thought of _him_ she thought of the dreams that continued to plague her. Dreams of hard lips softening against her skin, sighs whispering through the silence, fingers twisting in hair… and each time she awoke, she was tangled in her sheets and her blood hummed with lingering frustration.

This morning however… she actually ended up rolling from the bed before waking. Laying there with her face pressed into the plush rug, breath out of control, she could still feel hot velvet skin held in her hand. A hand that was currently covered in mud and tearing at weeds. She’d always had such control over her dreams that she could vividly live them out as she pleased. But these… these horrifying nightmares she seemed to have no control over but could remember each small detail… each feeling woven within. And what made them worse was the fact that she _enjoyed_ the direction they took.

A twisted anticipation followed her to bed each night only for her to wake with equally twisted horror mingling with arousal unlike she’d experienced in a very long time. The entire day would be filled with a heavy feeling in her chest as she sequestered herself to her rooms or garden doing anything to keep her mind from grazing against the memories of taste and touch… and she’d do fine for a while. But then… the most random things would begin to remind her once more.

The scent of her coffee, the clear blue of the sky, her dying roses. And she’d find herself practically _aquiver_ with anticipation of the night. Aquiver! She didn’t have time or want for such nonsense, especially when the object of these dreams was such a horrible, controlling, bore of a man.

Realizing the direction of her thoughts, she quickly reigned them back into the far recesses of her mind and frantically began her humming once more. No more thoughts of dreams and the pleasures to be found in them. Only thoughts of gardening and party planning.

“Áine.” A hand settled on her shoulder startling her into twisting away. Setting a heavily soiled hand over her rapidly beating heart she stared up at Ge’els, his expression concerned as he swept his gaze over her. “I called your name three times… where were you my love?”

Allowing her shoulders to loosen she summoned up a carefree smile. “Just singing as I work darling. I must have been drowning out all other noise… after all you know how I adore Belle’s Harmony. I spent the morning with Selly to make certain Madame Belle was secured for my birthday.”

“And this?” He waved a hand toward the mess she’d made of herself. “I’ve known you to become carried away with your work but Áine, you look positively _feral_.”

Áine glanced down at herself, taking in the heavy coat of mud and grass spread rather liberally over her limbs and dress. She nearly set one of her grimy hands to her hair to give it a pat but she stopped herself just in time. Besides, she could feel the heavy chunks falling from their pins brushing along her shoulders and back, a few lingering in her eyes and having to be blown away with a puff of air from her lips.

She lifted a pleased grin back up to Ge’els and wiggled her eyebrows. “Feral you say? That could be fun. I could become the wildling of the palace gardens, foraging amongst the vegetables and fruits… snaring any rabbits who dare infringe on my territory. Frightening the guests as they weave about the blooms… I’d become legend.”

Ge’els knelt, carefully keeping his knees from touching the ground, and reached out to tuck the hair that had fallen into her eyes behind her ear. “You’re hiding Áine.”

With a roll of her eyes she turned away and resumed her work. “You could have at least attempted to play along.”

“While you do summon up an interesting image, a mud and flower covered sprite darting amongst the trees, snagging apples and tossing the cores at the tourists, I’m here for a reason my darling.”

Keeping her eyes on her hands, she slowed her movements a touch. She didn’t wish to give him her full attention, and she wasn’t even entirely certain she wished to hear what he had to say, but she would give him his wish. For now.

“I’m concerned.” He said softly.

When he didn’t elaborate and her curiosity rose above her stubbornness she huffed a sigh. “Out with it Ge’els.” She tried to keep her voice free of frustration, but it took quite a lot of energy.

“When was the last time you went beyond the garden and the four walls of your room?”

“What an absurd concern Viceroy. I’ve had little time to go out and about, with my birthday quickly approaching.”

“Áine, you have not even sent out invitations.”

She sat back on her legs again and shot him a quick glance before staring at the delicate white blooms swaying in the gentle breeze. “I’m putting the final touches on the list and sending them out tomorrow.”

“And? Did you add him to this list?”

Her eyes cut to him with a tiny curl of her lip. “Who?”

“Avallac’h.”

She knew who he’d meant but to hear him actually voice the name had her tightening her hand tightly around the weeds she’d yet to drop into the basket.

“What a thing to say Ge’els.” She shook her head before looking up at him chidingly. “One, why would you think he has anything to do with anything? And two… why would I invite him? We are not friends, not even acquaintances.”

Ge’els reached out and rubbed the pad of this thumb over the tip of her chin and she could feel the light scrape of dirt. She must have a smudge there.

“One, I’m not a fool. I know precisely when you began to avoid the rest of the palace. The very day after your adventure below your tower… And two, you may claim to not be friends, but he is the current hand of the king… of your brother. That makes him powerful and his absence would be duly noted.”

Knowing her feathers were being ruffled and having no power in smoothing them back down she twisted to face him fully with a small frown and poked a finger in his chest. “First off, no. I’m not avoiding the palace and therefore avoiding _him._ I’m very busy, that is all. Do you not see this basket of weeds and the hours of work ahead of me yet?” She tossed a hand about wildly with a wide eyed stare.

“Fine. I’ll accept that, even knowing that you could easily have the servants do it in a fraction of the time. I have a healthy respect for doing manual labor when one feels the desire to work through… frustrations.” There was a glint in his amber eyes that had her narrowing her silver ones.

“I’m not going to ask for clarification on that.”

“If you wish. Since you are not avoiding the palace nor anyone who might be found within, then you will have no issue with helping me put together a dinner party.”

Áine paused in her work, having just wrapped her fist around a cluster of weeds, and cut her silver eyes to Ge’els. She knew precisely what he was doing, her steely stubborn streak urged her to tell the Viceroy to toss himself from the nearest waterfall for preying on her weakness. And yet… she missed his palace, missed being around him and Auberon… “Go on…” She drawled lazily, careful to not seem too terribly enthusiastic.

His smile was pleased and more than trivially relieved, something that reminded Áine on just why she loved him, and a spark of guilt settled in her chest. She hadn’t realized… she blinked the thoughts away when he began to speak again.

“Spring is all about us my love, a time when the air tastes sweet and laughter is meant to be shared. Palace of Awakening is well and truly ready to awaken for the season, but it must have a princess to stand by my side and welcome its guest.”

Áine couldn’t resist an impish grin at him. “Such a foolish romantic. I love it… And how painfully well you know me Lord of Spring, for I would be honored to host a dinner for you.” Her grin faltered slightly as a thought occurred to her. “If I’m to do this however, I have one condition.”

As she knew he would, he gracefully dipped his head. “You have only to name it.”

“No dull personalities are to be invited. If this is truly an awakening of spring, then we need lively, exciting guests.”

Ge’els brows lifted dramatically. “You have my utmost agreement. Only those whom would be most entertaining for Your Highness will be invited.”

Her smile back in full force, she accepted his hand around her elbow as she eased to standing. “Come then my dearest, we will decide the menu as I bathe. I could use another set of hands in my hair.”

His answering grin was just as wicked as hers.

* * *

 

Sunlight, golden as it began to sink beyond the horizon, warmed the side of Avallac’hs face as he forced his gaze to study the books laid across his desk. It had been a long day of court, of standing at Auberon’s side as they listened to his subjects come forward with complaint after complaint. Feuding neighbors and insulted lords, travelers from far away territories and courtiers seeking attention.

It was a true testament to Auberon’s ability to rule as he kept his patience no matter the ridiculous nature of the complaint, for Avallac’h found his head had begun to ache after no more than the fourth minor lord complaining that the adjacent lords’ chickens keep making nests and laying eggs in his vineyard’s warehouses.

Auberon’s judgement was relentlessly fair and swift, and always with a firmly quiet voice. Avallac’h would introduce each subject and offer a cool glare if any looked as if they might offer objections to their king’s rule, effectively shutting them down until the bowed their way from the throne room. He would then nod to the scribe seated at a small desk keeping thorough notes, a silent order to bring the next parchment as the guard allowed in the next subject.

Each time he did this, Avallac’h could swear the stack of still to be seen subjects had grown rather than diminished, and with his turbulent sleep pattern of the past week, he felt each moment where he had to actually use his mind, as if the day would never end.

But eventually they had dismissed the last complaining merchant and retreated to the study to sit in silence and continue their work. It had been almost natural after the look he shared with Auberon as they both sighed and eased into their chairs, to make some witty remark about petty feuds and demands for the rains to fall more generously on one land but not another… But he remembered himself and with a roll of his shoulders he focused on his desk.

At some point a servant had left ĺde’s reply to his request, and though he wasn’t particularly looking forward to his new evening plans, he could only hope it chased the dreams and thoughts of… just chased them away.

He was pulled from analyzing the projected cost for a new ship for Eredin’s riders when the people’s proclaimed King of the Hunt himself strode in, his presence invasive and stifling.

“Ah well if it isn’t my favorite liege and favorite sage.” Eredin said with that sliver of a smile that seemed to always hover on his lips, his gaze slipping over every detail, from the stiff nod Avallac’h greeted him with to the accounts he was working with.

Once Auberon greeted him with a gentle ‘Eredin’ before again blocking his view of them with whatever letter he’d just unsealed, Eredin sauntered over and peered over his shoulder. Avallac’h resisted an eye roll at the warrior’s attire, the dirty fighting leathers and lingering scent of sweat suggesting he had just come up from training his soldiers, and yet hadn’t taken the time to clean up his presence before invading the king’s space.

“I need twice the iron to reinforce the hull.” Eredin said, crossing his arms as he straightened and moved to lean against the wall.

“That will make the ship entirely too heavy.” Avallac’h said firmly, closing the account book with a snap.

Eredin waved a hand through the air dismissively. “They fly Avallac’h. How does weight come into the equation?”

Avallac’h felt his headache from earlier double with just that question alone. “Magic is used to fly the ships, yes. But there must be a balance between the magic and the force needed to create the spell.”

“And? I’ll recruit more mages to _balance_. Or I could just bring you along.” Eredin’s icy gaze gleamed with challenge.

“As you can see, I have a task in which I’m more suitable for.” Avallac’h barely reigned in his temper enough to reduce his comment from a snap to a cool muttering as he looked back to his work.

“Can you imagine our esteemed king’s second donning the horrid armor you insist on?” Ge’els spoke up, having just himself arrived in the doorway. “Which reminds me, I’d like to make my yearly submission to change from the skull and bone we currently terrorize the smaller minded with, to something more elegant if not appealing.”

“Denied.” Eredin said with a roll of his eyes.

Ge’els met Avallac’hs gaze and shrugged. “I tried.”

“You were not at training today Viceroy.” Eredin said with a cold look toward Ge’els.

“Ah indeed I was not. Her Highness needed my assistance.” His golden eyes slid from Eredin to Avallac’h. “This is for you.”

Avallac’h stared at the envelope in the Viceroy’s outstretched hand, a pale gold turned bright by the setting sun. The seal of the princess pressed into the darker gold wax, a crowned rose. His stomach twisted, whether apprehension or anticipation as the cause, he refused to acknowledge either and quickly accepted the envelope and set it aside.

“Not going to open it?” Eredin asked with that insufferable smirk of his. “Could be important. After all it is from Her Highness.”

Feeling the weight of Auberon’s gaze joining that of the other two men, he bit back a sigh and quickly opened the seal and pulled out a card of heavy and expensive stock, the scent of roses lifted through the air and before reading what was on the card he glanced to the empty vase on the corner of his desk. He hadn’t received fresh roses since the evening of the springs, and once the last he _had_ received began to show signs of wilting, a servant had removed them. None had taken their place since.

Refusing to allow himself to consider just how he felt about the lack of roses and just how… nice… it was to have the scent surrounding him again, he quickly turned his attention back to the card. The handwriting was almost elegant, however there were too many unnecessary loops, the writer taking more time than required to form the words.

“Ah an invitation to Áine’s birthday, one I’m greatly looking forward to.” Eredin said mysteriously, having leaned forward slightly to read what was on the card. Unable to hide his frown, Avallac’h again set the invitation aside.

“Thank you for delivering this.” He offered to Ge’els, not certain he understood why the other man had hand delivered it when a servant could have done so just as easily.

“I’m surprised she sent out something so formal… after all the princess invited myself and Caranthir personally.” Eredin said, studying his nails when Avallac’h snapped his attention to him.

“When did she do this?” Avallac’h hated how interested he sounded but with Caranthir involved… he’d hoped to keep them apart, if only to save his greatest accomplishment the embarrassment she would bring him. Caranthir was a quiet child, never one prone for mischievousness. Áine however was nothing but loud and full of mischief.

“Correct me if I’m wrong Ge’els, but a week ago I believe. Put a slight dent in my masculinity to see her make eyes at Caranthir, but the boy is impressive… Which brings me to my reason for this visit.” Eredin continued when Avallac’h managed to keep his jaw tightly closed. “I wish to formally announce my intentions to have Áine as my wife.”

With a storm of emotions swirling from his chest to his head and back to his chest, Avallac’h swung his gaze from Eredin, to Ge’els who kept a carefully neutral expression, then to Auberon who had just set one letter down before unsealing the next and began reading it.

“You have never show interest in marrying Áine before.” Ge’els spoke, but Avallac’h could only stare at Auberon.

“I’ve been occupied with the hunt. And now that we have the elder blood back in our control, now seems the ideal time to… settle.” Eredin said.

“The decision is ultimately my sister’s. If she accepts your proposal Eredin, then I give my approval.” Auberon said at last.

Avallac’h sensed more than saw Eredin respond with a deep bow. “Conquering her heart shall be my greatest conquest yet.” He murmured before departing.

“I must take my leave as well.” Ge’els voice sounded faraway, as if he’d already made it through the door, and a breath later the click of the door confirmed it.

The encounter couldn’t have been more than a few moments, but for Avallac’h it felt as if an eternity had passed. He was left alone with Auberon, his thoughts twisting between his surprise invitation to the princess’s birthday, Eredin’s announcement that he intended to marry said princess, and the little fact that she personally invited Caranthir to her birthday.

He closed his eyes as he began to suspect he knew which day the princess had indeed met his young Caranthir. After she had acquired the list… and then he remembered the dress she had been wearing when he’d encountered her, which direction she had been going in as they crossed paths… She had intended to invite Caranthir to her birthday, wearing _that_ dress.

Avallac’h clenched his jaw to keep from spewing the curses fighting for release as anger simmered through his blood. With a dark scowl he turned away from Auberon and roughly slid the invitation into place before him and reached for a quill, words of a stinging rejection singing through his mind.

“Avallac’h.” Auberon spoke up.

“Yes?”

“You will be expected to be there.”

“I’m of no importance, to the princess nor to those that will be in attendance. Entirely certain the invitation is more from your sister’s endless fascination with doing the unexpected and is already waiting in anticipation of my polite refusal. As for the others, I will not be missed.” He’d tried to keep his temper masked behind indifference but knew he’d failed miserably.

“You are my secretary, my right hand. Tirion will not be returning to court for some time yet, and in his stead that makes you… _important_. It is appropriate for you to be in attendance as a loyal servant to the crown. Just as I am.”

Avallac’h supposed that was why his invitation had come so late… perhaps Ge’els had the same conversation with Áine, for there was little doubt in his mind that she would have been reluctant to invite him as much as he was reluctant to go.

With a sigh, he acknowledged that Auberon was once again proving his greatness as a wise ruler. Avallac’h was nearly as old but even still he had shamefully allowed his own emotions and feelings to take precedent over what was proper. Of course, he was expected to be at Princess Áine’s ball. Feeling light headed as some of the anger left him, he put away the quill and tucked the rose scented invitation away.

“Are you truly accepting of Eredin’s intentions toward Her Highness?” Avallac’h settled his gaze on Auberon who met him steadily.

“My sister is strong of spirit, with a great deal of herself to offer. Eredin is strong of spirit as well, perhaps that is what she needs.”

“To be happy? You believe she needs strength in a mate to be happy?”

“Áine… has been alone for her entire life.” Auberon spoke so quietly that Avallac’h wondered if he should even be privy to the words his king spoke. “I remember her as a child, the last remaining rays of sunshine to a father who would soon follow the death of his mate. And I remember what she was to me in those years following the loss of my own daughter. She needed me, and I could not give her the love and laughter she tried so hard to give to me.”

Auberon leveled his silvery gaze on Avallac’h. “Ge’els filled in where he could, indulged her whims, listened to her, and gave her whatever she needed so that she wouldn’t feel so alone.” He leaned back against his chair and his gaze became faraway. “If I thought for one moment Eredin could give my sister the love and adoration that she deserves, that she tried to give me as a child while lost in her own pain from the loss of our father… I would be a very poor brother indeed to keep such a thing from her.”

Avallac’h had not heard the closest person he had to a friend speak so much since their days in academics together. It unnerved him just as much as the insight he was being given into why he was so passive in Áine’s behavior, in her relationship with the Viceroy.

“She is also my heir, and her consort will have great power. While I trust her to make a decision that is not only wise for herself, I trust that she will make one that is wise for our people as well.”

Auberon had given Avallac’h a great deal to think on, so much so that he was still playing the entire conversation through his mind on an endless loop hours later as he trudged through the great doors of the palace in the late evening.

He’d been to see ĺde and it had gone just as he suspected it would have. She had been all too enthused to have him back in her bed, and she had indeed taken the edge from his lust, but in the end,  he was left just as frustrated as before. It hadn’t been her dark hair he’d seen when he closed his eyes, her jasmine perfume floating around him, and it certainly hadn’t been her soft hands running eagerly over his body.

No, he’d imagined his hands tangling in pale gold hair, roses had left him intoxicated, and the hands… the hands had been soft with just a hint of callouses left behind from hours spent working in the garden. The voice in his ear had been as cultured as it was teasing, and it hadn’t taken long for him to find himself spent and rolling to his back, guilt already settling heavy in his stomach as he’d barely clenched his jaw in time to keep himself from shouting… a name trapped behind his teeth and instead echoed through his mind.

Truly, he might as well have just done the deed himself and saved himself the coin for all the good he felt… but this was only the first time. As with any experiment or trial, one must repeat until the results are the ones desired and consistent. So, with the plan to avoid the princess as much as his position could allow, paired with consistent visits to ĺde, surely, he could chase _her_ from his desires.

“Avallac’h, might we have a word?”

The voice of Ge’els intercepting him as he took the first steps of the grand staircase had Avallac’h pausing and looking up to find the Viceroy making his way down. “Certainly.” He murmured and waited for the other man to join him.

“I should like to employ your assistance in keeping Eredin away from Áine.” He said once they were at the same level.

Avallac’h blinked once and then shook his head slowly. “I cannot do that. Auberon said if Eredin is what pleases his sister, then that is who she shall have.”

Ge’els gaze turned calculating as he tucked one hand behind his back and stood with his shoulders high. “No doubt His Majesty means well, but as someone with a particular closeness to Her Highness, I can say confidently that it will not end well.”

Once more, he found himself wondering about that _particular closeness_ and forced the thought away before he could snap out the question. No, tonight was not going at all how he’d planned, and his head begged for a soft pillow in a dark room. “And you would like to spare her from Eredin because… well because he’s Eredin?”

“No, I would spare Eredin from Áine because she will never forgive him for his part in this child of the elder blood scheme of yours. She will break him in the most dangerous of ways if he makes his intentions known. Eredin is a proud, ruthless leader, and she knows this and will have him knelt in pig shit before all of his men begging her to accept him before she would ever consider him a viable choice as her mate.”

Avallac’h lifted a brow. “Do you not believe as she does that that is just what he deserves?”

“He is my commander. He keeps Tir ná Lia safe and is exactly what our legion needs in a leader… at least for now until the frost has been stopped. I can whisper in her ear all I like that he is harmless and to pay his attentions no mind, but when it comes to her brother, and now her descended niece, she would not care. She would see her chance to use his interest in her, and with a calculating ruthlessness you that would leave you in awe, she would tear him down. There is nothing she would not do for those she loves.”

“Why has she not used my weaknesses against me? For my part in this.” Avallac’h said, crossing his arms.

“Because you said you would find an alternative. You gave her hope that her brother and niece might be spared. Eredin however pressures them both daily.”

Somehow, he was not surprised that Áine had confided in Ge’els about his agreement, after all they shared a _particular closeness._ Sighing with a shake of his head, whether to ward of the increasing level of guilt beginning to choke him or to simply find something to do to ease the restlessness he felt despite the minute slaking of lust just moments before, he couldn’t decide. “I will not interfere Ge’els. I have no sway over either of them and Auberon voiced his approval. If they tear each other apart then it is not our place to interfere.”

Ge’els expression twisted from coldly closed off to thoughtful. “If Eredin somehow managed to win her heart, you would do nothing?”

“It would not be my place.” Avallac’h repeated firmly, his own gaze narrowing. “And it would not be yours either.”

The Viceroy hummed a reply, his gaze sweeping over Avallac’h before his lips slid into a small smirk. “It is very… unbecoming to stumble into the palace with red cosmetics staining your skin.” Ge’els lifted a hand and settled it firmly on his shoulder. “Please clean yourself before tomorrow. Your presence is required as the hand of the king at the Palace of Awakening at sunset. Mistresses are expected but please remember to be discreet.” With that smirk still firmly in place he dropped his hand and began to make his exit.

“Why?” Avallac’h snapped out the question in irritation.

Ge’els kept walking and waved a hand gently in the air over his shoulder. “His Highness and you have been invited to my home for a dinner party, in honor of a gentle spring.”

“I don’t wish-” Avallac’h began but snapped his teeth together as he realized it was useless. He abhorred social events and had spent a great deal of his life successfully avoiding them. But that was before the thrice damned Tirion had been called away to his estates for whatever reason important men had to abandon their posts to see to.

It was now his _duty_ to attend these useless wastes of time, just as it was _expected_ of him to have a mistress.

Avallac’h swept a hand through his hair, dreading his still long walk to his chambers and hoping that his dreams would bring him the peace he would need in order to make it through the next day, and beyond that the next week.

If his experience with ĺde had been any indication however, he doubted it.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN/ Hope you guys are enjoying! Thank you for the kudos and comments- those things are like blood to a vampire


	7. Spring’s Spell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments and kudos!!!! We love yall!!

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* * *

 

They were all the same… tall and curved, their true color hidden away by dark glassy exterior. Their age varied and Avallac’h knew that for some reason that was meant to influence his decision but as he stared at the endless selection before him, he just couldn’t imagine why. The logical reasoning would be the youngest for that meant new and fresh… perhaps crisply so. But there was a great deal that could be said of the older, for they were bolder and had earned the right to be chosen after having waited with such enduring patience.

And then there were the creators.

Avallac’hs gaze swept over artfully designed labels, learning absolutely nothing about which was more appropriate for the occasion; which deserved to be taken in hand. Some names he recognized, having dealt with them for business of the Crown but he would not allow that to sway his decision.

Of course price was not an issue in this case for he could well afford to purchase the entire lot if he so wished, but of course, he would not. That would be excessive, but just the same he would not allow the marketing tactic of a higher price giving the allure of a higher quality.

Reaching out, he ran a finger down the smooth curve of the closest, wondering what the preference of his host would be… he’d been around Ge’els for neigh on his entire life but knew very little about the man. Other than his penchant for sculpting inappropriate statues of the crown princess… And now, where before Avallac’h had been merely thoughtful as he carefully contemplated his decision, his expression had become etched with a severe glare.

How it was, that no matter the situation his thoughts inevitably ended up on the princess, he could not yet say. But now with perfectly clear memory of her… pleasing… form etched in smooth marble firmly in his mind he determined that he would indeed be taking the time to visit ĺde before making an appearance at the Viceroy’s palace.

With a sigh of frustration and dread he glanced out the window to get an idea of how much time he had before he was expected when his gaze was caught by the unaspiringly sight of an unescorted princess walking past. In a moment that was reminiscent of when he’d been searching every florist in the city for her, finding her gaze through a window pane. Only now he was trapped within while she seemed to quickly recover from her moment of surprise and sent him a wink before disappearing into the crowd, only the stars knowing where to.

Baring his teeth in a moment of frustration he blindly snapped up the closest bottle of wine and tossed a handful of gold coins- more than the wine was worth he was certain- onto the shop keeps counter, before hurrying from the building.

Using as much of his superior height as he could, Avallac’h was just able to discern her particular shade of pale hair wildly piled on top of her head as she turned a corner, once more disappearing from view. He rolled his eyes with a scoff while taking that same turn. He now knew exactly where she was off to and it was on the forefront of her mind that she would need to work on her dodging skills. He wouldn’t tell her so of course, no reason to give the Princess any advantage in shirking her requirements of an accompanying escort.

Rather than turn toward her destination, she should have weaved in and out in the opposite direction until she had well and truly lost him. Avallac’h shook his head as he caught sight of her striding through lines of blooming trees, just as he knew she would.

Tir ná Lia’s city garden.

He wasn’t surprised. Nothing she did anymore could surprise him. Sneaking out of the castle mere hours before she was expected at the Viceroy’s- there was little doubt in his mind that the other man would have invited the princess - and heading to exactly where he knew she would have… no, this was typical Áine Órlaith Rhiannon Muircetach behavior.

And his lips were already forming the words he’d use to scold her. He could feel the anticipation of an argument running through his blood and though some voice in the back of his mind said in a droll tone that it was not his place to look forward to such an encounter, Avallac’h found that he very much indeed was looking forward to verbally sparring with the princess.

He wouldn’t allow the other voice, the one that wanted to tease and cajole him when it awakened, to go on about how he missed her. It was absurd and inappropriate so he tightly locked that particular voice away and told himself that he was not going mad. Just a long month and now a new situation of socializing that he had not been looking forward to, beginning to get to him.

Though the city gardens were not as extensive as the palace, Avallac’h found that he did have to wander around a great deal in his search for the rule breaking princess. He was forced to awkwardly nod to other garden visitors as they greeted him, some he’d met through his work for the crown, some complete strangers but it surprised him continually as they greeted him by his official political title Lord Chancellor.

He’d not been called so outside of days where Auberon held court, and around the palace he was just secretary or hand to the king. And before that, just merely an advisor that Auberon liked to keep around primarily since they’d grown up together. To have strangers recognize him… it was bewildering.

So much so that he nearly walked past a certain scene, and if not for the playful screeching of children, he would have. But his attention was pulled toward the sound and he stopped abruptly, forced to change his stance that nothing Princess Áine could ever do would surprise him.

He’d expected to find her wrist deep in dirt and weeds yes, but he did not expect to find her surrounded by children of all ages, from a little girl barely able to toddle to a boy who looked more as if he should be in the sparring ring than out and about with children younger than himself.

Frozen, Avallac’h stood between two tall and well-manicured bushes, his hastily purchased bottle of wine held loosely in one hand, watching as Áine crawled between beds of some flower or another. She paused every so often and pointed out something while speaking to the crowd of children.

He couldn’t hear what she said but it spurred the younger children into picking flowers and tossing them into various baskets while she and the older few picked at weeds and dead flowers. There was no holding back the sigh from his chest as dirt coated her gloveless hands and the sun shone brightly across her face.

There was not much he could do about these habits of hers and found it rather comical that his first sight of her since their exploration of the hot springs was of her causing mischief while covered in dirt and perspiration.

Without realizing, he’d taken several strides toward the little gathering, he finally stoped when the princess looked up through the loose strands of hair that had fallen across her eyes but he was now close enough to hear the chattering of the children and the instructions she seemed to be giving them.

“We must keep the plants - no matter if they are grown for practical needs or for the pleasure of their beauty - free of weeds. Can anyone tell me why?” Áine said in a voice that was instructive and pleasant, while dismissing him from her attention.

Several voices chimed out answers with varying degrees of correctness but when a little boy called out that it was because the weeds were ugly, Áine laughed charmingly. “I quite agree Theron, these weeds are hideous.”

Again, Avallac’h found he was surprised that she knew the children by name.

“Do we have enough flowers?” A girl child asked, holding out her overflowing basket.

“If not, we know where we can find more.” Áine tapped a finger on the child’s nose before standing and dusting her hands off. “Let’s sit beneath the cherry blossoms. Does anyone know when they are expected to bloom?”

Avallac’h silently followed the noisy group until they reached the small gathering of trees mere days from bloom, listening as she asked questions and they called out answers. Giggles rolled through them when someone gave a silly answer, but they were never made to feel embarrassed.

As everyone sat and began to dig into the flowers, it took him a moment to realize they were weaving together flower crowns. All thought of arguing and beratement for leaving the palace unescorted - namely since that was a duty he himself had volunteered for - had been swept away from his mind as he leaned against a tree and watched.

He soon realized that he was beginning to garner curious looks from the children which they then turned on the princess, but it soon became apparent that she was ignoring him. Outside of a wink back in town and a single glance since then, she had not acknowledged him, and the children were beginning to notice.

There was a tension thickening around them as their chatter and laughter began to quiet, as Áine asked fewer and fewer questions and her comments stopped all together. A slight panic - unreasonable as it might have been - began to raise its voice in his head and he wondered if he should introduce himself or simply walk away… put some distance between them.

However, she had different plans.

“Avallac’h, if you must insist on intruding then just come over here and introduce yourself. All must do their part if we’re to have lovely crowns for the princesses and princes of spring.” Áine spoke up, breaking the silence and chasing away his thoughts of retreat.

Still he hesitated, unfamiliar with children, especially so many all at once, as well as his need to keep his gaze from straying too long on the princess. But then the children urged him forward with infectious excitement and a small hand wrapped around his middle finger and tugged him toward the group.

He glanced down in surprise to find a girl not even reaching his knee the culprit pulling on him and he lifted his startled gaze to Áine’s, unsure of what to do other than follow the girl. Áine merely winked and gestured to the grassy area the children had moved aside to provide him.

Slowly, he folded his long legs into a cross and sat on the soft grass beneath sweet scented trees, children surrounding him with Áine across from him. Setting his bottle of wine aside he quickly noticed the grass stains on her undoubtably expensive dress, the dirt caked around her fingernails and the bead of perspiration trailing from her temple and down her neck. He had to admit, it was rather warm, something his new robes were doing nothing to help with, but the appreciative smile she gave him after trailing her gaze over them - they were after all the robes she had given him - he found he didn’t mind all that much.

Her demeanor was rather pleasant until her gaze swept from him to the wine and back to him… then her shoulders stiffened, and her smile faded. He could only guess at what the abrupt change in her behavior was brought on by, although he was certain she would tell him once they were no longer in the company of children. 

At her pointed look that followed, Avallac’h blinked and realized the children were still waiting for something, and as all eyes were on him, he realized it was the introduction the princess had promised them.

“Greetings… children. My name is Crevan Espane aep Caomhan Macha.” He made certain to meet each pair of eyes blinking back at him, trying not to flinch as one picked at their nose and another stuffed a handful of grass in their mouth. He thought he’d done rather well until the sound of Áine clearing her throat and giving him a nudging look told him otherwise. Unsure of what he was meant to do he tried to read her lips. “How-ev-er… call me Avallac’h.” Áine’s smile was pleased and for some odd reason, the sight of it relieved him.

“How do you know Áine?” One child asked while another quickly followed it with one that went even further. “Are you here to court her?”

Startled, Avallac’h quickly shook his head. “Absolutely not! I’m here to see she does not come to harm. And you should refer to her properly by referring to the princess as Her Highness.” It was not the answers nor reaction; the children had wanted and they showed their disappointment in him by shuttering their gazes and looking away. At a loss of what he should have done he sent a helpless look to the princess, but he found a similar expression on her, before she masked it with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“How about we give Avallac’h a basket and see if he can weave together a crown.” She said with a nod toward the child closest to him who in turn nudged a small basket of flowers toward him. He didn’t particularly want to but even less, he didn’t want to cause more disappointment to the children, especially now that several had looked at him with renewed interest.

It wasn’t difficult to tell that these children were from destitute backgrounds. Though their clothes were free of holes and fraying, they were cheaply made and equally well-worn and as such, Avallac’h easily put together the pieces that Áine was here not only out of love of gardening, but of charity for Tir ná Lia’s less fortunate.

Again… surprised and left with the sense that he must not disappoint them more than he already had.

So, with a nod of thanks to the child who had given him the flowers, he began his attempts at weaving together flowers. He watched closely as Áine nimbly moved her fingers and created crown after crown. One of the older girls occasionally leaned close and whispered pointers when she noticed he was falling behind in his own creations until he at last had one successfully made and cradled carefully in his palms.

He flicked his gaze to Áine in time to see her drop hers back to her work though she didn’t hide her smile. Avallac’h told himself not to investigate the glint in her gaze and instead looked to his helper to find her waiting expectantly. He held the flower crown out to her. “My lady.” He said in what he hoped was a charming voice, pleased with himself as the girl giggled and dipped her head low enough for him to place the crown atop her head.

“Avallac’h.” Áine spoke, drawing his attention immediately back to her. She held one of her many created crowns up, her nod beckoning him forward. Slowly he dipped his head, just as the girl had and watched as the princess carefully placed the crown of flowers on his head. “Rise Prince of Spring.” She said with a jaunty quirk of her lips, her hands falling back to her lap though her gaze lingering on his.

Sitting back, he felt the irresistible urge to return her smile and before he could check himself he sent her an arch look. “And just where is your crown O’ Princess of Spring?”

Encouraged by his show of teasing, she narrowed her silvery gaze at the children. “How is it that I have not yet been crowned?”

Avallac’h’s smile grew as she was promptly tackled by several little bodies, each vying to place their crowns upon her head and it was with screeches and giggles that she fell backward in the grass. Eventually the children allowed her to sit back up, freshly crowned with no less than six wreaths tangled together in her hair.

But it was the flush of her skin and the brightness of her eyes that held him entranced. It was with a daze that he followed her movements, of her raising to her knees and scooping up a yawning child, the youngest of the lot and time seemed to slow down. He blinked as the sun shone through pale strands of her hair and the thin petals surrounding her brow. She smiled down at the child. Turned that smile, stealing the very breath from his lungs as she did so, on him.

And then promptly placed the infant in his lap.

Time rushed back into reality as he blinked up at the wickedly - how he thought such a smile had been breathtaking a moment before he did not know - grinning princess before looking down at the barely more than an infant curling up against him. She had a snotty nose with dust having mixed in, eyes already closed, and thumb firmly entrenched in her mouth.

Panic.

He didn’t know the first thing about children, much less how to get dirty snot out of clothing which was becoming a very real concern of his as the girl nuzzled closer to him.

Glaring at the princess as she began to tell some nonsensical story, while pointedly ignoring him, but he couldn’t keep it up for too long as soon she had several children in her own lap and found himself paying careful attention to the story. Of a cursed prince and the girl from a humble background who he fell in love with. He listened as she created voices for each character and went into detail of each setting, watched as her expressions matched that of the plot and fell deeper into her thrall.

He didn’t notice as the day wore on more of the children gravitated to him, pressing against his sides or resting a head on his knee.

“It seems as if you’ve done it again Your Highness.” A kind voice came from behind him, bringing Avallac’h back into awareness of himself and his surroundings. With a bewildered sweep of his gaze he noticed just how many of the children were using him for a pillow and again that panic returned. How did he get them off him without disappointing them? But Áine must have decided to take mercy on him and smiled at the woman that was standing behind him.

“All in a day’s work. Come now Princes and Princesses of Spring, Mistress Syvis has need of you… and I must take our dear Avallac’h off to dinner.” Áine said, rolling her eyes at the whines of protest that followed her announcement. “Alright, who can tell me the one rule when it comes time for us to part?”

She nodded toward an older boy holding his hand up. “So long as we say goodbye without fussing, we get to come back.”

“Right you are. Come, let us rescue poor Avallac’h from Cresty’s drool.”

Whines successfully deterred, the children began to stand and soon the woman, Syvis, bent down and eased the still sleeping baby from his lap. With waves and promises to come back in two weeks, the children and their Mistress departed, flower crowns adorning each head and smiles on each face. He stood beside Áine as she waved until the group turned out of sight before she sighed and turned in the opposite direction.

Avallac’h scooped up his wine and straightened his flower crown, easily catching up to the quick paced princess. “I hope you do not mean to try and lose me again. I meant it when I said I would be your constant escort outside of the palace.”

She snorted in a very unlady like huff and increased her pace. “As if I needed reminding. It is simply that I was expected by Ge’els hours ago so that I might host with him - speaking of which - the wine was not necessary.”

Avallac’h faltered a step, tightening his hold on his gift. “Pardon the blunder, I am not familiar with dinner party customs.” He bit out forcefully, unwanted embarrassment warming his neck.

“How is it that you’re irate with me about it then? It was hardly my fault that you decided to learn everything there is to know out there except how to socialize.” Áine cried out as she turned to walk backwards while she spoke. “If this were just a small gathering of two or three friends, certainly. Bring a little gift to show appreciation for the host providing you with food. But a dinner full of-” Áine fell over backwards, tripped by a line of tightly manicured hedges. Her yelp was cut short as she landed heavily on her back.

Avallac’h quickly leaned over to see if she were truly harmed but was unable to bite back his grin as she lay there in the grass, flower crowns scattered around her, legs still bent over the hedge. She narrowed her gaze at him.

“Don’t you dare laugh.” She growled up at him.

But her threatening tone did nothing to sway him as a chuckle escaped and he shook his head. “This is retribution for dropping a snot nosed infant on my lap. Look at this-” He jabbed a finger to a wet spot on his chest. “Drool. As I said… retribution.”

He thought she might continue on with her angry and obviously embarrassed tirade, but for the hundredth time since catching sight of her through the window, she surprised him once more with an answering smile and roll of her eyes.

“Help me up and I’ll admit that it was rather wicked of me.”

He didn’t think twice about taking her raised hand in his though he was certainly thinking about the warmth that spread through the touch as he pulled her up and back over the hedge. The tips of her fingers grazed his palm as she drew her hand from his after a moment of staring at their clasped hands. He couldn’t place the emotion that grazed across her face and it was all he could do to keep his own impassive.

Being in her presence was becoming rather difficult as memories, dreams or otherwise, were continually pressing forward against his will. As it was, her lingering scent surrounding him, her silver eyes boring into his, and even the sounds of her breath were loosening the tightly held reigns of his control. It would be easy… so incredibly easy to let go. To welcome the sound of her sighing against his skin, her gaze flashing with desire for him.

With a rush, he sought a way to fill the silence as she stepped over the hedge and swept up her scattered flower crowns. “If you were meant to be at the Palace of Awakening, why were you with the children in the garden?”

There was a long sigh as she resumed walking, leading them from the garden and just down the road he could make out their destination. “Ge’els decision was impulsive and when I accepted, I did so without remembering my obligations. But Ge’els is much more understanding than children, therefor easing my conscious in choosing to spend the afternoon with them. Besides, Ge’els has more than enough servants to aid him. I am merely there to stand at his side and be entertaining.”

Avallac’h swept his gaze down her appearance and he was rather relieved that she couldn’t see the horrified expression that was sending his brows up near his hairline. “Do you not think it best to… return to the palace in order to put on a proper appearance?”

He quickly lowered his brows when she glanced over her shoulder toward him. “I could continue to tease you by saying that I have every intention of greeting the dozen or so very important guests just as I am, spurring you into a panic induced heart attack… but as I’ve already paid once today for my teasing of you, I’ll leave it with a simple explanation that I have my own wing at the Palace of Awakening. Equipped with a fully functional bathing room and extensive wardrobe.”

Her words had him missing a step as the new knowledge echoed through his mind. He was however saved from thinking on it too long as they reached their destination and he followed her up the stairs and into the already opening doorway.

“This is where I leave you Avallac’h. Erith will accept your kind gift to the Viceroy and show you where you may wait until we are ready to receive you. I abhor being late but in this case, yourself and the other guests will just have to be accepting.”

Avallac’h blinked as all warmth from before had been stripped from her voice as well as her gaze, her instructions bordering on cold royal decree rather than a friendly goodbye. There was nothing more he could do other than to bow slightly and hand his gift to the waiting servant. She turned away without further word and left him to be led to a room near the foyer.

It was only once he was left standing awkwardly in a room full of familiar people from Eredin to Auberon and to his not really that much surprise - Caranthir, that he realized he’d missed his appointment with ĺde. Mentally shaking his head, he settled himself in for stilted conversation as everyone waited for the Princess Áine to ready herself.

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

Scrubbing her hands over her face, Áine tried to keep her panic at bay. Not just her panic really, but her anger, frustration, and the stupid, ridiculous part of her that had actually been happy at the sight of the stupid, ridiculous sage.

All these thoughts and feelings centering around him were becoming overwhelming and the only thing that made her feel better was the wrath she was going to unleash on Ge’els the moment she had him alone. After all, it was his fault that she’d just spent a surprisingly delightful afternoon in the presence of the exact person she’d hoped to never see again.

It was Ge’els fault that she’d found Avallac’h to be charming and awkward and - and despite his obvious discomfort around children had actually played the part of caring surprisingly well. In the beginning she’d hoped to chase him off… perhaps not to abandon his self-imposed post as escort, but to at least be out of sight. But then he’d made that flower crown and indulge one of the girls who’d looked to have fallen in instant love with him and she quickly felt herself falling under the spell of spring.

Áine flung herself from the clawed bath tub and vigorously dried herself off.

But no matter how she threw herself into her grooming, she could not chase away the sight of sunlight turning his blue eyes to the color of sparkling gems, nor could she forget the way his shoulders had relaxed as children piled around him and yet his attention had never wavered from her.

With a sound of disgust, Áine tossed her soggy towel away and stomped to her wardrobe, slinging the doors wide. She was not gentle with her dresses as she dug through them, dismissing item after item. Nothing suited her mood and it was just another thing she decided to blame Ge’els for… a feeling that was more than odd for her as she was never irate with him.

But when it came to Avallac’h… everything anyone ever did when he was involved seemed to set her off.

“Bloody madness.” She growled to herself, shoving another dress aside. “And not a thing to wea-” The sight of a long loved dress caught her sight and her breath left for a moment as her smile turned wicked. “Hello old friend.” She purred and pulled the sparkling creation from the darkest reaches of her wardrobe.

There was no doubt that she would be wearing the dangerous dress to this travesty of a night, if only because she knew just how amazing she looked in it and right then she could use her own brand of amazing.

Stepping away from the wardrobe with a swing of her hips she began to dress herself in the floor length creation, using touches of magic to hold the blue swirls in place. Turning her back to the mirror she smiled again at her bare back, the magical fabric sweeping low over her hips before falling to the floor in a sparkling cascade. If one didn’t know better, it looked as if she were only covered from the waist down but upon turning, the blue swirls crawled up her ribs and cradled her breast in a heart shaped neckline.

“Oh how I missed you…” She whispered, running a hand over the dress, already anticipating the gossip it would no doubt cause. “Just like the old days.” The matter of heels, hair, and cosmetics were completed in a matter of minutes with her well-practiced movements doing just enough to be considered done.

With a final satisfied pat to her woven and pinned up hair she pulled open her door, her once pleased expression shifting to aloof at the sight of Ge’els leaning against the opposite wall. As annoyed with him as she was, she couldn’t help admire the fine figure he cut with his sharply tailored robes, the color of which turned his honey colored eyes ever brighter. His sophisticated looks paired with an appreciative draw of those honey eyes over her appearance lifted her opinion of him just enough where she didn’t out right ignore him, though she did wait for him to compliment her first, as she knew he would.

“If I didn’t know better Your Highness, I would say you mean for me to forget about this little soiree and abscond you to our favorite spot in the palace.” He said, straightening from the wall and reaching for her hand.

Áine tilted her head away and watched through lowered lashes as he placed a delicate kiss to the top of her hand. “Ah but you do know better. And truthfully, your ceramics studio was your favorite place. Not mine.” 

He answered her with an indulgent smile while offering his arm and leading her toward the dining room. “And all the time we spent in there, molding clay, making a mess of ourselves-”

“I did not say it was not enjoyable Ge’els.” Áine looked up at him with a roll of her eyes. “Only that while it was your preferred place of carnal inhabitations, it was not mine.”

With a hum of interest he pulled her to a stop at the doors that would open to the dining room. “And just where is your preferred place?”

Pausing with her mouth open, it was with a sense of guilt riddled shock that Áine realized that she had no ready answer for him, but rather than admit such a thing to her dearest friend she chose to avoid it all together. “It appears that we have arrived.” The comment was unnecessary and mundane, but it did the job in distracting Ge’els. Looking down the hall she spied Erith approaching them with an inquisitive look expression that immediately turned comprehending when she sent him a single nod.

Ge’els sent her a speculative look, but dropped the subject of their past exploits while opening the doors allowing the both of them to sweep into position. Not a moment later their guests began to make their way toward them, each with varying degree of annoyances etched on the expression.

“Why did you not send word that you would be late.” Ge’els asked in a quiet voice as they greeted their guests, insincere smiles traded for equally insincere smiles.

“I did not wish to.” Áine bit out between clenched teeth and a tight smile. Her irritation with him returning at an unprecedented rate.

“And why, my love, did you not wish to… if I may be so bold.”

There was a brief lull between arrivals in which she took the moment to send him a glare. “You sprung this on me in the last moment while I was clearly busy. It was only when Selly went over the days obligations that I was reminded of the orphanage. By then I was not in the mood to send word. Besides-” Áine paused to smile at a dower faced couple as they strode past “This is much more entertaining.”

“These are friends and people I work with. I would appreciate it if they returned.” Ge’els said in a tone usually reserved for anyone other than herself.

In that moment Eredin, Caranthir, and Avallac’h approached with Auberon coming in last from the sitting room.

“Áine! You are absolutely worth the wait, particularly in that dress.” Eredin said with a low, sweeping bow that had his long black hair falling over his shoulder. Once he straightened, he sent another look raking down her form before finally meeting her gaze.

“Eredin. You almost look tolerable enough to look at, particularly without the glamour magic.” Her piece said she immediately dismissed him and summoned her most charming smile for Caranthir who listened with bright amusement shining from his sky blue eyes. “Caranthir, I’m pleased to see you again. I do hope Ge’els placed you near me at the table.”

“Not nearly as pleased as I am Your Highness, nor as hopeful.” Caranthir went a step further than Eredin and held his hand out toward her. Instinctively as well as thoroughly delighted, she placed her hand in his and tried to keep her smile from becoming overly enamored as he placed those perfect lips of his to the top of her hand. She might have succeeded too if his eyes had dropped from hers, but alas, the boy knew what he was doing when it came to charm, and kept his gaze thoroughly locked with hers.

Feeling a touch breathless, Áine pulled her hand free as Eredin rolled his eyes. “Enough Caranthir, save it for the ballroom. Ge’els.”

Áine sent them off with a wink before carefully masking her face when it came for Avallac’h to pause and be greeted, his own mask in place. “Your Highness, Lord Viceroy.”

“Lord Chancellor.” Ge’els greeted with more enthusiasm than Áine thought the occasion warranted and it took a great deal of control to keep from jabbing her elbow into his ribs. Instead she settled for a tight smile and tried not to think about how wide the sage’s shoulders looked when he stood tall with his hands clasped behind his back.

When his moment of greeting had passed, Avallac’h left to find his seat, leaving Áine to slowly let out a breath and reach out for her brother as he came to stand before them. Once she’d clasped both of his hands in hers, she leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Careful to keep her worry hidden she released him without a word and watched as he strode to his seat at the head of the table, but the circles under his eyes and the dullness of his hair remained in the forefront of her mind.

Ge’els attempted to lead her to the table after Auberon, but Áine held him back, her gaze watching as a servant closed the doors. “You did not invite Ciri?”

“Áine, she is human.” Ge’els answered quietly, drawing her to look up at him.

“A human who is of royal descent, not only from her world, but of ours. She is my family.” Áine whispered at him harshly before pulling her arm free and walking briskly to her allotted seat. Sweeping her gaze over her table neighbors, she nearly forgot to keep her limp hidden when she saw Avallac’h seated next to her empty chair with Eredin occupying the other side.

Thinking quickly while adding another bullet point to the ever growing list of reasons to be annoyed with Ge’els, she spied Caranthir seated across from her. “Lord Chancellor, I believe I would enjoy the view of you better if you were seated across from me.”  Her voice was pleasant, and she even managed a smile for Eredin when he stood to assist her with her high back chair. Without question, although more than a dozen eyebrows rose, Caranthir and Avallac’h switched places. One with a wink once he took his new seat and the other with stony impassiveness.

Ge’els took his seat at Avallac’h’s side and nearest to Auberon, his gaze never leaving Áine while she signaled for the first course to be served. The other guests began to chatter and within seconds there was a shriek of laughter.

Áine promptly reached for her waiting glass of wine.

“Caranthir. Rumor has it you are the rising star of the Riders. I look forward to when you take Eredin’s place.” She said with a charming smile after a long drink of her wine.

“Knowing I have your support Your Highness, is all the encouragement I need to someday succeed dethrone the King of the Hunt.”

“Áine, do not encourage his insubordination. The whelp is already a handful.” Eredin added in with a frown.

Áine turned an arch look to her other table neighbor. “Your Grace, need I remind you that we’re in polite company. Proper titles are a must. Besides-” She turned a wink on Caranthir. “Only those I deem charming enough are given leave to call me by name. Which you must do Caranthir.”

He dipped his golden head in a small nod. “It would be the utmost pleasure to call you Áine.”

Feeling pleased with the success of her flirtatious banter with the blindingly handsome man, she turned to her meal and speared her fork into a pile of spiced vegetables. As she chewed, she wandered her gaze over those nearby, tuning into their conversations as she went. Ge’els was describing his latest muse to a clearly not listening Auberon while Eredin interjected that he certainly hoped the lady was prepared for his atrocious painting style. She could have made it a point to step into their conversation to defend her friend but she was not willing to come to his aid so readily after his extensive lists of offences so she dismissed them with a sniff and another long drink of wine.

Avallac’h had just asked Caranthir if he’d read the lasted manuscript from a sage whose name she didn’t recognize so she dismissed them as well, deciding flirtatious comments as they discussed intellectual interests would only diminish their opinion of her intelligence. Though the magic in transmutation was interesting, she already had a headache and would rather spend her time flirting lightly than holding deep conversations.

But her interest was more than piqued as she caught Avallac’h’s other neighbor, one Countess Syndra, eyeing him with a snake like look. Áine recognized that look, having had it plastered across her own expression many times in such settings. A look that meant the other woman had opinions, poisonous opinions at that.

“Pardon me Lord Chancellor, but I must ask how you did it.” Syndra spoke just as Áine realized the woman did indeed intend to speak her mind. Once she had the sage’s attention, his conversation with Caranthir thoroughly interrupted, she continued. “How is it someone of your lineage acquired such a honored place at our King’s side? The Espanes were soldiers of little fortune after all, terrible how they left you so young and destitute.”

Áine nearly rolled her eyes at the fussy woman’s rudeness but she held back when she sensed Caranthir stiffening beside her and instead thought back on all the scandals the much older woman had found herself embroiled in throughout the centuries of excess and boredom.

Avallac’h set down the salad cutlery, his expression was impassive as he clearly sorted through his list of appropriate responses. Áine however had no such list and no such patience to wait for him to defend himself. Thus such, she held her empty glass aloft, signaling for a servant to refill while sending an arch look toward Syndra. The countess was dripping with wealth carried in on the bleeding backs of slaves, plundered from far off worlds. Her age and perpetually poisonous disposition however showed through in the haggard lines that not even glamor magic could hide.

“Syndra, you will never be invited as a courtier if you insist on speaking - not to mention even thinking - so poorly on the choices of your king. Ah, thank you Erith.” She paused to tilt a smile to the man filling her glass before turning a pleasant smile back on the now woman with a beseeching smile frozen in place. “I believe back in your day; such offenses were commonly punishable by death. If you like, as the king’s overly indulged sister, perhaps he would listen if I spoke out on your behalf. It would be such a shame if your family fell into such disgrace over two poorly chosen sentences.” Áine finished with a sip of wine and an overly sincere look of concern.

Syndra dragged a glare over Áine before cutting her gaze toward Auberon then firmly onto her plate where Áine supposed the dressed brussels were now her eyeballs in Syndra’s imagination if the vigor the older woman put into spearing them were any indication.

“Áine I have never been more certain in my decision to court you for your hand than I am now after that rather ruthless display of female dominance.” Eredin said with a sly grin and a nudge of his elbow against hers.

She did nothing to hide her groan of annoyance at the man as she swept her gaze over Caranthir with his sparkling interest, Avallac’h with his clenched jaw, and Ge’els with irritation in his amber eyes before cutting to Eredin. “Please, for the love of all that is sacred, you did not just say you intend to court me?”

Eredin lifted a dark brow, lips firmly serious. “I absolutely do. Think about it Áine, we would be great together. Both of us know what we want and not cowed by insolence.”

There was no stopping the short burst of laughter that escaped from Áine’s chest, though it was difficult to tell if it was out of true humor or nothing more than a poor attempt to hide her budding panic. “By those accounts, you ought to be courting Syndra for she meets those same requirements, though you might need to see to an unfortunate accident for that fourth husband of hers… or was he the fifth?” Áine pointed rather rudely with her fork to the still sourly glaring woman. “I just threatened to have her executed for insulting Auberon and Avallac’h and she still insists on looking at me as if I were one of her slaves who spilt tea all down her front.”

Eredin waved away her comments and eased his lips into a charming smile. “I nearly forgot how you like to tease… I had entertained the idea many years ago but then you and Ge’els took up together… what did we call that whirlwind of a love affair…” He cut his gaze to Ge’els who rolled his eyes.

“What is he speaking of Ge’els?” Áine deliberately kept her gaze from his as she felt a bit cold, and instead she watched Avallac’h as he sipped his wine and locked his sight on her.

“The Riders are… fond… of giving titles to the various romances that sweep through. An immature practice my love, please do not concern yourself.”

“Eredin? What did you allow your subordinates to call my romance with the Viceroy? I know you are simply being dramatic so-” She glanced at him. “What is it?”

A smile slithered over his lips as he dipped his head toward her. “The Viceroy’s Trembling Enchantment.”

For several heartbeats Áine stared at him with wide eyes before nearly falling from her chair in laughter. “Y-you cannot be serious. You are!” She managed to get out before shaking her head in wonder. “I believe you and your lot might have a future in the titling of romance novels. What a horrid title. Although…” She sent a conspiratorial look to Eredin. “He was quite the trembler.”

At her wink, Eredin gave out his own bark of laughter. “Ah those were the days. A century of the trembling Viceroy. You will find my loveliest of princesses, that I am not one prone to trembles.”

With a quirk of her lips, Áine shook her head and finished off her wine. “I will not find, as I’m certain you speak the truth of yourself Eredin. But I rather like having that effect on the male gender… which is the only reason I need to firmly say that we would never do. Now - if all this horribly inappropriate talk of my private life in the presence of my brother is over, I suggest we move along to the dancing.”

With a gallant sweep, Caranthir assisted her from her chair, bringing a genuine smile to her lips. “It would be an honor to have you dance with me Your Hi- Áine.”

“It pains me to deny you Caranthir… but I’m a terrible dancer and I can only trust Ge’els to put up with my heels wreaking havoc on his feet. But I would be delighted to be accompanied by you to the ballroom.” With Áine having stood from the table, several others began to make their way to the next block of the evening’s entertainment. It was informal enough that those not yet finished with their meal continued their conversations, Syndra included. The sight of Auberon standing caught her attention and Áine sent Caranthir a quick smile before joining her brother’s side.

“You will stay… please?” She asked quietly, peering up at him. She saw the answer in his eyes as he titled down and pressed a kiss to her brow.

“Avallac’h will escort you home… you will be well cared for. Enjoy the evening.” Auberon said just as quietly before heading for the dining room doors, people standing and bowing as he went.

Áine forced a serene smile to her lips and set her hand on Caranthir’s offered arm. She didn’t ask for much out of the night, a bit of wine and flirting, all while she sat at Auberon’s side. Instead she was left with irritation at her best friend, pretending she didn’t have desires for one while she very much wanted to have such desires for another, and attempting to stay one step ahead of an unwanted courtship… and her brother was leaving.

With a heaviness settling on her shoulders which she could not be allowed to show, Áine played the charming hostess well into the night.

* * *

* * *

 

“You simply must be introduced to my neice Lord Chancellor… she is delightfully biddable and an accomplished writer… have you read any works by her?” The countess from before asked, blinking widely up at Avallac’h as they stood near a line of artfully potted trees. He watched as the Viceroy and Princess expertly swept around the marble floor.

“No. I have not.” Avallac’h said absently, taking note of the tightness around Áine’s lips and how her gaze was continually drawn to the exit. He didn’t mention to Syndra that he had no idea who her niece was and that he had no intention of ever reading the unknown woman’s works and honestly he was astounded at the change in her opinion of him. The thought of Áine speaking on his behalf had him frowning as she drew her hand from Ge’els at the end of the dance and stood between Eredin and Caranthir.

He had been taken by surprise by the woman’s blatant rudeness around so many others. He would have thought she would mention his common lineage in a moment like now rather than with others listening in, particularly Auberon and Áine. Mentally he shook his head, resigning himself to the fact that he would never understand these people and their social traditions of cutting remarks one moment and match making the next.

Caranthir laughed as Áine nudged him toward a woman and acquaintance of Ge’els and though the boy clearly only wanted to stay at the side of the princess, he whisked the waiting woman away for the next dance. Immediately the newly vacated spot was taken by a handful of others vying for her attention. The way they crowded around her was enough to make him feel stifled and he shuddered mentally at the thought of having so many speaking to him at once.

“I will have a collection of signed first additions sent to you so that you might acquaint yourself with her work before you meet her. She’s no beauty as my own daughter is but has many wonderful qualities.”

Avallac’h lifted a brow, watching as Áine brushed aside Eredin’s attempt at tucking a wisp of hair which had fallen over her ear, all while laughing gaily at whatever a much older gentleman said from her other side.

“Perhaps I would be more interested in meeting your daughter Lady Syndra.” He spoke without looking at her and feeling the as if his collar were beginning to close in around his throat.

“Oh well… she is really quite busy. And there are already talks of her in connection to Lord Reize. You understand how these things are.” Lady Syndra tried to deflect with a sweet voice that set his teeth on edge.

“Of course.” He answered, and truthfully, he did. He was good enough for the esteemed lady’s niece but not so far above his previous station to be considered worthy of her daughter. He pulled his gaze from the princess as she turned her exposed back to a woman who must have been making inquiries of the outlandish dress she wore, and toward the open terrace doors.

It was unlikely he could stand to be in his currently torturous setting without embarrassing himself a moment longer. Stiffly he offered the countess a short bow and strode for the exit. He considered thanking Lady Syndra and Ge’els for reminding him of his place in all this recent wave of chaos in his life.

The warmth from the sun filled day yet lingered in the mid evening as he stepped into the torch lit darkness. He could just make out the manicured shrubs and perfectly rounded trees. There was a touch of Áine to be found in the roses that seemed to grow in wild disarray around the shrubs and trees.

The realization had him closing his eyes and tipping back his head. The need to draw a deep breath was stolen by the knowledge that he at last knew the exact relationship between the princess and the Viceroy. Somehow he’d known for sometime but had been happier to have not had their status as lovers confirmed.

Though he supposed they were past lovers….

Opening his eyes to the sight of the moon shining brightly down on him, the sea of stars swirling out around it, he played with the idea of leaving for a time. Of digging up a journal from the deep reaches of his collection and looking for a portal that would take him to one of those far off stars where he could… think. Not have his mind and senses constantly plagued with politics, princesses, and roses.

Avallac’h dropped his gaze down to the fountain before him, its three tiers of stone gracefully displaying the gentle fall of water. More than ever his mind turned to Áine but now a sharp twist of something foreign twisting high in his chest accompanied his thoughts. Had they made love on the wide edge of the fountain? Had the Viceroy stripped the gown she wore tonight from her body with her gazing at him as she had in his very dream the night before?

“Fuck.” Avallac’h swore quietly as he realized the direction of his thoughts.

“Goodness Avallac’h, I don’t believe I’ve ever heard you speak so!” Áine’s voice cut into his thoughts and every muscle in his body tensed. The music and laughter from the short distance away faded into nothing, leaving just the sound of his thick breathing and her approach. “Did the fountain do something so offensive?” She came to stand slightly between him and the fountain before turning to look up at him.

“Forgive me. You are correct that I normally avoid such crass. It has been a long evening, though I hope you are enjoying yourself.” He managed to meet her gaze, taking note of the hint of worry that had been present since Auberon’s departure.

Her expression turned to one of exasperation as she lowered herself to sit in the very place he’d just wondered about. “You are not honestly allowing Syndra’s comments to get to you… are you?”

Avallac’h felt his lips curl into a slight grin, the ease of which she brought a smile out of him and everyone she spoke to really, amazed him. “No, and I feel as a man of some level of pride, I should tell you that I could have handled her without your aid.”

For the first time since catching sight of her winking at him through a shop window, her smile sparkled in her eyes. “I know you could. I could see you sorting through your Gentleman’s Guide to Appropriate Responses to Bitchy Countesses. I have no such guide and have no such patience.” Her smile dimmed slightly as a thought seemed to have occurred to her. “You don’t mind do you? I would be furious if you had done the same.”

Truthfully… he did mind.

“Do as you will. I have never cared much for the importance of one’s background, so long as your actions are meritable.”

She leaned back on her hands and Avallac’h hid his own behind his back. “Ah yes. Meritable actions. Something you keep trying to steer me into… Syndra said your parents were soldiers.”

A safe enough topic in Avallac’hs opinion so he nodded.

“Do you remember them?” She asked, her gaze no longer of the present and he realized that if there was someone who understood such loss as a child, it was her.

With a short sigh he sat a short distance from her and rested his forearms on his knees. “I do. Even after all this time, certain parts of them have remained with me. The gold tint of my mother’s hair twisted into a long plait down her back. My father’s fondness of tobacco, the scented smoke following him as he studied map after map.”

“Were they Riders?”

Avallac’h angled his gaze toward her and shook his head. “No. Soldiers of a province far enough away that few here in the capitol would be able to find it on a map.”

“Did you ever want to follow in their example? Protecting your home?”

He thought over his response carefully, drawing the moment out as he studied the shadows cast by torchlight and the moon. “I have always been driven to protect my home yes. But not as a soldier.” She nodded in understanding and for the moment, the sting to his pride didn’t bother him. And when she hid a yawn he even felt the urge to tease her. “Am I truly so boring?”

His smile grew when she paused in the midst of her yawn to stare at him before answering his smile with one of her own. “Yes, terribly boring.” She punctuated with a quick scoop of water splashed toward him. Successfully, but only just, he fought back the instinctive response of returning her splash with one of his. “Tell me something… is this what it means to be old? Growing tired so early in the night?”

Brushing off drops of water, he stood and held out his dry hand toward her. “I shall ignore the implications in what you mean by asking me that question and simply offer honesty. Yes. When you can no longer stay awake long enough to greet the sunrise, you’re well and truly on your way into your dotage.”

Áine rolled her eyes and set her hand in his heavily. As he pulled her to standing the warmth of her curling her fingers around his spread up his arm and into his chest. “As if you’ve ever been awake long enough to greet the sunrise. You were born already well into your dotage.”

Irresistibly he dipped his head closer to hers, placing her hand on his arm. “I’ll have you know I wrote twenty three of my thirty seven published books by greeting the sunrise.”

A curious gleam shined from her moonlit eyes but she only smiled and nodded with mock apology. “How dare I… Unless you’ve grown fond of Syndra, I’d like to say goodbye to Caranthir and return home.”

Her mention of the younger man swiftly erased any shred of his tolerable mood but he managed to keep his expression pleasant as he straightened and led her back inside without word. He watched and listened as she spoke words of promise to Caranthir and even mild flirtation to Eredin, neither of which were happy to see her go. The Viceroy mentioned her early departure and rather than admit that she was tired she left it at that she would see him for coffee.

The ease she found in acknowledging each person who approached and expressed disappointment at her leaving was impressive as he lost impatience with the endless strings of goodbyes ages ago. Even Lady Syndra was demure as she wished the princess well.

A carriage was pulled around as they stepped from the last stairs leading from the Palace of Awakening and he did his duty as he helped her ascend into it and then sat across from her. There was a new tension growing thick as he felt her gaze, felt the need to meet it. Of course realizing that they must be in the Viceroy’s carriage did nothing to help as he considered the possibility that… he swallowed a heavy sigh.

“Why Auberon? Why not yourself?”

Her questions successfully dragged his gaze to hers at last. “I offered.”

“But…” He leveled an arch look at her which she clearly understood a moment later. “Syndra is not the first to bring up your lineage.”

He rewarded her questions with his own. “The Viceroy? Why did it end?”

Áine rolled her eyes away, yet she smiled. “Ge’els is romantic and caring and loves me… It’s… difficult to explain why we ended the intimate part of our relationship. He would do something irritating, much like today, and rather than screaming at him how I feel, which is what I wanted to do, I just… let it go.”

After a moment of silence Avallac’h shook his head in bewilderment. “Are you saying that I am now responsible for finding you a suitable husband all because you wanted to argue with Ge’els but don’t, therefore you find him unsuitable?”

Her glare was sharp. “I’m explaining it poorly, I know. Passion Avallac’h. There’s more to being in an emotional and intimate relationship than just sex and pillow talk. Of course I want to be swept away in the romantic sense but I also want to fight and yell and throw tea cups. To share all of my feelings, not just the ones that are pleasant to be around. Ge’els wants me to be happy, that is certain. But he has no wish to be around my other emotions. That is why he let me go tonight rather than try and convince me to stay, even if it was in my own rooms alone. I’m angry with him and he knows it yet has no wish to hear why.”

Silence stretched between them until the carriage pulled to a stop, rescuing him from further comment as he busied himself with helping her from the carriage and up the steps.

“Join me for a moment.” She said, staring up at him as they reached the entrance.

Against his better judgement he followed along in silence until he realized they were heading toward her tower. “Perhaps this is far enough.” He muttered, attempting to smother any trace of anticipation and pleasure at her wish to remain in his company.

“I insist we finish this horrid day with a final glass of wine.”

Perhaps it was the long day, the draw of Spring, or even more outrageous… the wish to remain in her presence just a little longer. “…I have to admit… one last glass would help me to forget Lady Syndra’s attempts to match me to her niece.”

“And I need to forget the fact that Eredin exists.” She sent him a quick wink before stepping forward and pushing the door open.

His fingers itched to trail the curve of her spine as she ascended the stairs before him, his gaze left no choice but to sweep over the pale expanse of her exposed back, down to the curve of her hips curving the dress swaying with her movements.

“Ah at last, I should have removed my heels before doing this. If you will get down a couple of glasses, I will open a bottle. I don’t usually keep it here but I’d hoped Auberon would be joining me.”

Understanding rippled through him as his movements became stilted. He pointedly avoided looking at her as she poured them both a glass of wine, immediately drinking deeply once she lifted the bottle away. “Sincere apologies for the poor fill in I must be for your brother.”

“There is no comparison between you, therefore no need to apologize… I would have protested just as fiercely had you been the one to undertake the role of fathering a child with Ciri.” Áine said quietly, leaning a hip on the table next to where he still stood.

There was an anger twisting through his blood that had been simmering for a very long time and her words ignited it into flames. “If I had been the one granted the responsibility, it would already be done.”

“I don’t believe you.” She said quietly with wide eyes locked on him.

“You should. I have already spoken of my desire to protect my home.” He shifted his stance to stand before her when she narrowed her gaze.

“Are you suggesting that my brother does not share the same desire?”

“I’m suggesting-” He paused to lean close enough to place his now empty wineglass on the table where she leaned. “That your wish to control everything and everyone does not extend to myself.” His gaze drifted over her features before settling on her slightly parted lips. Images of her whispering his name twisted into her whispering Ge’els name and then Caranthir and the mental fist slamming into his gut had him dragging his gaze back to hers. “Stay away from Caranthir.”

He heard the slightest of in drawn breaths before she straightened from the table, bringing her within a breath of touching him. “No.”

“I have trained him for too long to allow for you to sweep his future into one of your wardrobes to be forgotten.”

“You-” She bit out angrily and jabbed a finger into the center of his chest. “-do not get to tell me who I spend my time with.”

“I do when it’s Caranthir.”

Her glare turned into a sultry smile as she tilted her chin until he could taste the wine on her breath. Desire, hot and heavy shot through his body, hardening him to a degree of pain. “Have you not learned, Avallac’h, that if there is one sure way to get me to do something… it is to tell me that I cannot do it?”

“You’re just improper enough to believe that sort of behavior is acceptable.” He bit out slowly, curling his hands into tight fists at his sides.

“As improper as telling the heir to the throne that she’s not good enough for someone? Let me tell you something Espane.” Áine jabbed him again with her finger, setting his teeth on edge as he fought the need to return the favor - as childish as it was. “I know my worth, and I refuse to allow you to look down on me as Syndra does you.” Her voice had risen until she was nearly shouting.

The words echoed around him, twisting through his mind as he stared down into her glittering eyes. The truth of them was beginning to tear his resolve into shreds but more than that was the hurt in her eyes. Everything melted away inside of him, his stung pride from her fighting his battles, his fear of Caranthir having his heart broken, the unexpected jealousy over her past relationship with Ge’els… all he was left with was a sense of failure.

He’d failed her with his unfair opinions and words, his people with his unworthy lineage, and himself… his lack of control and his superior opinion of himself.

But above all… his needs and desires. They whispered through the back of his mind to kiss her until there was no other man in her mind but him… to lift her onto the table behind her but only after slipping her dress free of her body.

“Avallac’h.” Áine whispered in a tone that he’d only heard in his dreams and it stilled his very breath in his lungs.

Baring his teeth he flung himself away from her, taking the stairs as quickly as he could until he could disappear into the darkness. He could leave her behind, but he could not leave the images his mind had conjured of her, and he could not allow himself to consider she had the same desires as himself.

It was impossible.

* * *

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	8. Opinion of a Princess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter is a bit shorter as we rev up for the big celebration!!! Such a huge turning point is on the way so here a nice little chunk of fun before we dive into a good bit of chaos. As always enjoy!!!

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Silently, Áine slipped into her brother’s study and closed the door behind her with a quiet swish. She took a quick moment to breath in the familiar scents of ink, wax, and wood polish. Scents that had been a staple of the room since the days of her father and likely his father before him. Her gaze was drawn to his empty chair, framed by the rays of a setting sun filtering in through the tall windows. It looked stiff and uncomfortable but important work was done in that chair. Work that filled her with pride and sorrow at the cost it often brought.

But heavy thoughts about her brother and his responsibilities- responsibilities that were likely to fall to her one day, were not the reason she was here.

The scratch of quill on stiff parchment filled the silence and a smile slipped over her lips. Leaning back against the door she cut her gaze to the other chair in the room, watching as Avallac’h wrote quickly, concentration etched deeply across his face.

“Someone must have done something wrong if that expression and the speed of which you are writing were anything to guess by.” Áine said, her breath catching a moment later when he looked up, the furrow of his brows smoothing and a pleasant smile coming to his lips.

“Ah, if it isn’t the shining star of all the Aen Elle.” The words slipped past his lips as he stood and gestured to his seat. “Sit, please… and tell me what brings you so that I might offer my assistance.”

Enjoying where this was going, Áine did as he suggested and settled herself deeply in his chair. It was more comfortable than it looked, and she swept her gaze over his desk until the sight of him moving to stand beside it brought her eyes up to his.

“Do you truly believe me to me so horrid and unworthy?” She asked rather bluntly.

Avallac’h’s smile turned soft as he shook his head. “Certainly not. You are truly wonderful and worthy of any you should so love. You are fiercely protective and loyal and should be given the same in return… a hundred fold at that.”

Áine leaned back against the rest with a smirk. “It was rather kind of me to stand up for you against that viper countess- I’ve already forgotten her name but all the same.”

He straightened and swept into a quick bow. “My appreciation for that by the way.”

“Mmmm yes… you are welcome…. Avallac’h… what else is wonderful about me?”

Immediately the sage launched into a list of her high qualities ranging from her pleasing taste in romantic heroes to her excellent taste in fashion. But her favorite was of course about her gardens. “I’ve read all the books you’ve written about botany and found your instructional manuscripts most informative. Your ability-“ He paused a moment to shake his head in wide eyed wonder. “I’ve travelled extensively and have yet to come across gardens more exquisitely cultivated than your own.”

Sighing in pleasure, Áine closed her eyes and enjoyed the warmth of the setting sun to spread across her cheeks. “It’s nice to hear that you think so.”

“But they are nothing compared to the beauty I find before me in this exact moment… or any moment in time in which you exist Your Highness.”

Áine popped open her eyes and had to take a breathless moment to take in her surroundings. Her hand was resting on the sleeve of a dress, a sleeve that was being held out horizontal by Maeve who stared at her in rapt curiosity.

A dress shop, she realized. She was not in Auberon’s office, but rather a dress shop down in the city with Maeve and Ciri to procure dresses for the quickly upcoming ball.

“You have exactly to the count of three to tell me what that myriad of expressions running across your face were all about.” Maeve said with a sly smile that had Áine narrowing her gaze.

“Or you’ll do what?”

“I’ll tell Ge’els about the time you considered taking up the invite to Lady Saria’s orgy.”

Áine waved a hand and snort dismissively. “He likely had the same invite Maeve.”

“And yet the fact that you chickened out would be of great amusement to him, primarily since he did get the same invite and yet went.”

“Damn you…” Áine knew Maeve had her there where her pride was involved. If everything were of a normal climate between herself and her former lover, she would not have minded him knowing her reluctance to dive into a complete abandonment of her sexual inhibitions… but things were not completely as they should be with herself and the Viceroy and had no desire for him to know anything about her that would cost her even a shred of her pride.

Sighing she swept a gaze around the shop, taking in Ciri looking at a table of long gloves and one other shopper who seemed to be far enough away that she could speak freely, if not a touch quiet. “I had a rather confusing row with Avallac’h last night. I won’t bother you with the whys as honestly, I just do not know why he insisted on arguing.”

When Maeve simply lifted a brow, signaling that she wasn’t satisfied, Áine rolled her eyes. “For the past week, I’ve accidently slipped into his dreams. Last night was the first time I’ve had one of my own, whether he wandered into it, I’m not certain. I can only hope not.”

Maeve’s blue eyes took on a ravenous gleam as she stepped closer. “And just what happened in these dreams, his and yours?”

“Maeve. Look at me. What do _you_ think his dreams of me are about?”

“Humble as ever. Though I am surprised he didn’t dream of you organizing his bookshelves.”

“He very well might yet, just while I’m nude or very well close to it.” Áine couldn’t resist a small laugh at the thought.

“I take it your dream was of a different nature.”

Here, Áine’s smile fell away before she could summon the mask to keep it in place. “I had him give me a thousand compliments.” She said when she managed to summon a touch of humor into her voice. She didn’t wish to speak of just how affected she was by the soft look in his eye, the wonder in his voice, particularly as he put into pretty words of how beautiful he found her. It would reveal just how much of her was beginning to wish he truly felt that way and the surprising stab in her chest that he didn’t.

He found her attractive enough to lust after her, but found her unsuitable in every way that truly mattered to him.

Something of what she was feeling must have slipped through to the surface because Maeve let the subject fall away and returned to complain about being dragged into dress shopping.

“I still do not see why I have to pick out a dress.” She said while holding up a mess of puffy fabric the color of pea soup.

“Because for once, I want you there as a guest, not as a guard. And you accepted the invitation. Truthfully you can wear whatever you like, but you would look lethal in that one over there.” Áine pointed to a mannequin with a red dress she’d heard the dressmaker call a high-low dress paired black leather tights.

Maeve tilted her head as she studied the ensemble before nodding thoughtfully. “With that design, I could still fight if something were to happen.”

Smiling indulgently, Áine nudged her toward the front where the shop keep was. “Go let them know you wish to try it on for adjustments and I’ll keep looking. Ciri already made her selection and is merely browsing for now.”

Once she was alone, Áine wandered around various mannequins, examining their displays before moving onto the next, lost in thoughts of how to keep herself from caring so much of what Avallac’h thought or even felt about her. She’d stopped before a regally posed display of boring when a finger tapped her on the shoulder.

Surprised, she turned to find a young woman, her cinnamon colored hair swept back from her delicate features which were dominated by her sparkling periwinkle eyes. Well dressed yet not overly so for a trip about town but it was obvious she came from a well off family. It was the openness of her expression that had Áine turning fully toward the smiling woman.

“Positively  sorry for bothering you- its just well- I couldn’t help but notice that you’re looking for a dress. And I couldn’t help but think the dress in the back would be perfection on-“

“Saeve! Hurry up!” A male voice sudden bellowed from the shops front, interrupting the woman before her.

Áine watched in amusement as who could only be Saeve scowled before turning toward the shop front.

“Shut up Declan! Lady Madrien is not going to care about chocolate covered strawberries!” She shouted back much to Áine’s wide eyed wonder. She couldn’t help grinning back at the young woman when she turned back to her. “Sorry about that.”

“Brother?”

Saeve rolled her eyes and sighed. “Yes, one of four, all equally as obnoxious. I best pay for these and be on my way… But go to the back room, that’s where they keep all the really good stuff. The dress back there looks like it was made for you.”

Áine nodded but spoke up when Saeve had taken several steps away. “How do you know what is in the back room? I’ve been coming here for centuries and Master Penion has never once invited me to see back there… though I never thought to ask either.”

Looking back over her shoulder, Saeve gave a proud smile. “Because I’m one of his designers.”

Blinking in surprise, Áine smiled back. “And the dress you recommended?”

“Me. I only just finished it.”

“Saeve!” Declan called out again with ever more impatience echoing off the walls.

“Go on then, I know brothers and men, he sounds seconds away from a tantrum. I am honored to view your creation.”

“Bye then!” Saeve called out happily and disappeared through the racks and mannequins.

Shaking her head at the amusing family dynamics that were usually repressed when people were in her presence, she slipped into the back room and fell in love at first sight for the first time in her life.

* * *

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“Again. And tighten your control… do not loose possession of even a single wisp of your magic.”

Avallac’h stood in the center of a field surrounded by soldiers practicing in their various fields of combat, but he’d long since forgotten of their presence. He was instead focused on Caranthir, watching as he tested out the new staff Avallac’h had created for him.

“What did you use for the power source? It feels… untamed.” Caranthir asked, twisting his wrist to bring the top of the staff level with his gaze.

“A meteorite- no need for concern- I tested it thoroughly. Untamed as you said but with authority, it is unmatched by any other staff.”

Caranthir nodded and brushed a stray chunk of golden hair from his face before swinging the staff in a long, stead arc before carefully touching the bottom tip to the ground. The staff came to life and Avallac’h felt a swell of pride that matched the boys own pleased smile at his success in fully controlling the power within the staff.

After several hours, Caranthir had expertly increased his speed and the amount of power he put into each attack, culminating in a brief dual that left one of Avallac’hs braids singed and Caranthir dropping to the ground to lay on his back in exhaustion.

Smiling softly, Avallac’h sat beside him, resting an arm over a bent knee while continuing to hold his own staff upright and watched the various weapon spars continuing around them. A soldier’s path is not what he had encouraged Caranthir to follow, rather he would have had the closest person he would ever have as a child follow his own, extending his exceptional abilities to the Aen Saevherne. But it had always been his determination to never step in the way of the boys wishes. Advice was always given freely when it was sought and not always taken, but in this, Caranthir had never asked for his guidance.

Which made broaching the subject of the princess all that more delicate… he had no wish to tell Caranthir his interest in Áine was ill advised but wondered if he could guide him into that way of thinking none the less.

“I’ve been told that you are invited to Her Highnesses’ birthday celebrations.” He hoped his tone was conversational enough to seem natural.

“Ah Princess Áine… yes I have. I assume you as well?” Caranthir said, still stretched out on his back with his eyes closed.

Avallac’h nodded but when he realized Caranthir hadn’t seen him he continued forward with his prepared conversation tree. “Have you considered a gift?”

Caranthir’s eyes popped open in surprise. “Shit.”

With a chuckle, Avallac’h looked away. “I have absolutely no idea on what to get the impossible woman.”

“Avallac’h! I never would have thought to hear the day you refer to the future queen as ‘impossible woman!’”

Shaking his head, Avallac’h sighed. “In all honesty, I did not mean to and I apologize. I should have more control… I have not yet had a moment to inform you but King Auberon has placed the task with sorting through her petitioned suitors and determining which are most… suitable.”

At this, Caranthir sat up, tangling his fingers together with outstretched arms braced on his raised knees. “And you saw…”

“I did… and now knowing that Eredin- your commander- has tossed in his as well… how are you feeling about all of this?”

Caranthir sent him a playful grin, his bright eyes sparkling with mirth. “Eredin is hardly a challenge, she despises him. So, I imagine my chances with or without him in the mix have changed little. But…”

There was a sickening leap in Avallac’hs chest as the boy’s smile slipped and uncertainty shrouded his gaze. He refrained from urging him to continue, allowing him the peace to put together his thoughts.

“Having met her… she’s more than I had imagined.”

“Is that… good?”

“I feel it would be incredibly easy to fall in love with her.”

The sickening leap deep within Avallac’h turned into an erratic pounding.

After a long pause, Caranthir continued. “But I don’t believe it would be the lasting kind.”

There was such an intense stillness within him at those words that Avallac’h was uncertain as to just what he truthfully felt in that moment. “Why do you believe so?”

“Just a feeling.”

“Do you wish to rescind your petition?” It took every thread of control he still possessed to keep the hopeful tone from coloring his voice.

“I will let you know after her celebrations. Whether I fall in love with her romantically or as a friend… perhaps I will know by then. What of you?”

Avallac’h blinked at Caranthir several times before he found his voice. “What of me?”

He was answered with a snort of disbelieving laughter. “I may be young Avallac’h but… well I’ve seen the way you look at her. But if you are as unaware as your wide innocent eyes seem to convey, I’ll speak no more of it. Instead… we must figure out what you are to gift to Her Highness. Have you come up with any considerations?”

Allowing the change in topic as he had no wish to explore what Caranthir was suggesting… though he was curious as to just how he looked at her. “I had considered a book, particularly one that lists ever reason why one should not animate objects… such as statues. Likely she would not read it however. A gardening hat and gloves, but again, likely she would not wear them.”

“Ah yes, she is known to be gifted with growing fauna. I heard that something is very wrong with the roses she is so fond of.”

Guilt welled up within Avallac’h as he allowed a moment of silence to stretch between them. After his treatment of her in the tower, he owed her nothing less than the cure to her roses, something he had to admit, had not been his main priority of late.

“In the beginning I had been working to help find the cause and reverse to the flowers… but after certain events I allowed it to slip to the back of my mind and had not made much progress.” He admitted quietly.

“Avallac’h! That is so… unlike you! Which events and do you have enough time to cure them before the celebrations?”

There was no universe in existence where he had the courage to admit that he’d willfully pushed every thought of the princess far from his mind which regretfully, included her roses, nor was he willing to speak of the events that had led him to such behavior.

“I fear there is not enough time…” An idea began to form within him, sending him surging to his feet. “Do not get her something elaborate, but unique.” He said, backing away quickly. “And remember to practice your control.”

Caranthir called out his agreement and with a final nod, Avallac’h turned, his long stride quickly taking him to his destination.

* * *

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With a scratch to the side of his head, Avallac’h considered his options. He’d known flowers could be genetically manipulated into colors other than what could be found in the wild, after all that was his own plan for his gift to the princess. And after taking stock of just which colors she had already created, he was marginally relieved to find that what he had in mind did not yet exist. But that still left him with the conundrum of where to begin…

Colors that reminded him of Áine, combined into one flower that was uniquely _her._

Gold for her hair was of course a must… with perhaps white tips for her eyes.

Glancing around to ensure he was well and truly alone, Avallac’h quickly severed several roses from the bushes, wondering idly if Áine would notice. She seemed to notice everything when it came to her flowers. One thing he knew for sure, he did not wish to be caught in the act.

He’d just snipped the last he intended with the sound of voices  through the trees reached him, sending him into a flurrying rush to pocket the clippers and begin to make his way away from the roses and toward the exit.

“Oh but of course he is handsome! He looks… distinguished.” A voice he recognized all too well spoke, giving him pause at her words.

“If by distinguished you mean _old_. The yes he is handsomely _old._ ” Another woman’s voice whom he did not recognize tittered before being shushed by several others. It was then that Avallac’h realized it must be a court day for the princess, and she was entertaining her seasons ladies in the garden.

“Lady Telvayne, it is fine to have opinions, however Her Highness did not give leave to so openly condemn her own.” Ge’els voice rose above the chatter, and Avallac’h applauded him in teaching the lady a spec of proprietary, even if it was over a subject that was not entirely proper on its own.

“Forgive me Your Highness.” Came the mumbled apology.

“Ignore Ge’els, he is only sore that we have not yet complimented him on his own distinguished appearance. You look very handsome this afternoon my love.” Her voice was placating and brought a small smile to his lips as the memory of her use of that tone on him came to mind.

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome. Now- back to the topic at hand, I cannot be the only one who finds him so. Speak freely, since apparently I have to give permission in these things in order to be given any amount of honesty.”

Deciding that he had no wish to over hear the princess, her ladies, and the Viceroy gossip of the attractiveness of various lads, he began to inch his way into a path leading away from the rows of roses and trees that separated him from the group.

“I do agree with you Áine, but who I truly find handsome, especially in that ‘distinguished older gentleman’ way you seem to admire, is your resident sage.”

Ciri’s comment gave him brief pause before he decided she must be using the topic of himself to try and cause a reaction in the princess. She was beginning to fit in quite well with palace life it would seem. Shaking his head, he continued, now more eager than ever to put some distance between himself and the garden.

“I have to agree with you Ciri… he is rather nice to look at. Especially when he holds his hands behind his back, and do not even get me started on his eyes- oh do not look so shocked Ge’els.”

Again, Avallac’h found himself frozen in place as the princess’s agreement that his appearance was of the handsome nature echoed through him. Áine thought him to be handsome… and liked when he held his hands behind his back?

Perhaps Ciri spoke of another sage, but he couldn’t imagine who.

He glanced down at himself, curious as to why. He’d never put much concern into how he looked or how others perceived him. Had never really cared what others thought of his eyes or hair, but the warmth spreading through his chest and up his neck couldn’t be anything other than the feeling of pleasure, with perhaps a bit of embarrassment.

It felt… nice.

But now he had no idea what to do with the information, though now he had a small, growing desire, to know what else the princess admired about him. He did know she thought he looked nice in blue.

“I’m merely surprised… I never thought I would see the day when you had such a kind opinion of Avallac’h.”

“I have many kind opinions of him! You make me sound horrid Ge’els.” There was a sharpness to her tone.

“Indeed? Such as?”

“Well, other than being handsome, he is intelligent and well spoken. Nice smile… adapts easily- did I tell you about the children? I plopped a sleeping baby into his arms and he just went along with it and before long, half a dozen or so were piled on him. Was really very adorable-“

The list of his good qualities came to an abrupt halt as Áine, along with her small entourage stepped through the trees and into his sight.

With a rush, he managed to remember to hide his handful of roses behind his back, using his cape as cover. It was only when her wide, horrified eyes dropped to his shoulders at the movement did he recall that she liked it when he did that.

Embarrassment flooded his skin, as surely as it was flooding hers when she realized he very likely overheard the opinions she held of him. “Your Highness.” He managed to say within an appropriate amount of time.

“Avallac’h, how are you?” She returned, clasping her hands at her waist and staring him in the eye.

Visions of how he’d left her the night before, the things he’d said- _felt_ , latched onto him and he wondered if they were for her as well.

“Very well. Fresh air. Well- I must return to my duties.” He took a step forward to pass her when she nodded, before remembering himself and stopping again. “And, how are you?”

Áine blinked in surprise. “Very well… fresh air as…well.”

Her response, exactly as his own brought a small smile to his lips. “Good. Enjoy the fresh air… it is quite… fresh.” Realizing he was rambling, he swiftly passed by without another word and without waiting for her own response.

“Jasmine- why do you suppose he smells of jasmine when he was just surrounded by roses?” He heard her ask, and it was only when Ge’els replied, suggesting it was a new soap, that he remembered there had been half a dozen other people back there. But all that had existed in that moment had been her.

And now he owed the Viceroy for his discretion… for the thought of the princess learning the true reason such a scent lingered around him, left him feeling ill.

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	9. A Life Given...

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Pale gold hair, twisted, woven, and swept into an elegant arrangement, gleamed in flickering candle light. With practiced movements, fingers with carefully painted nails plucked wispy strands free, allowing them to gently frame high cheeks bones and a delicately curved jaw. Ears, pointed and adorned with flowers of pearl along the shell, peaked from the strands.

“Quickly Ge’els, lace me up. Auberon will be here any moment.” Áine said in a voice that shook slightly with panic. She lifted a foot as she bent closer to her mirror, brushing a dusting of pale pink cosmetic over each of her eyelids.

“Set down - good, now other foot.” Ge’els muttered from where he knelt behind her, seeing to the task she had given him.

As she continued to work on her eye cosmetics, she felt her dress, the perfect creation of the young woman from the dressmakers, slide up her body. Deftly she switched hands when Ge’els reached for one to guide through the strap.

“I blame you for this.” Áine tossed down the small brush and reached for the rosy pink lip paint.

Ge’els huffed and began to tighten the laces at her back once the straps were in place across the outer tops of her shoulders. “I tried to wake you from your nap. You threatened my life.”

“You-” She paused to press her lips together before taking in the dress molding to her frame. “should have known better than to bring me a plate of cookies while I sunned in the garden. You know what cookies and sunshine do to me.”

Tying off the laces Ge’els smoothed his hands down her arms and pressed his lips to the top of her shoulder where the skin was exposed. “I know that they make you happy, and that is all you should be on this day. Happy.”

Áine met his gaze briefly in the mirror before dropping it to examine the delicate white and blue flowers that had been crafted individually and then sewn along the dress’s shoulders, down the deep v of the bodice before wrapping around her waist. The blue skirt swayed gently around her legs, looking as if they were flowers falling from trees into a crystal pond.

“This dress makes me happy. And yes, the desserts and napping in the sunshine made me happy. Dealing with the aftermath however…”

One of her ladies came up behind them with a nervous twist of her hands. “His Highness is awaiting you.”

Áine didn’t have time to think as she waved the lady away and quickly stepped into her white satin heels, the sheen matching that of the clasps around her ears. She tackled the ribbons of one while Ge’els saw to the other before he pecked her cheek and stood aside.

“You look perfection personified. I will see you there.” He said quietly.

The moment he had arrived in her garden bearing a platter of cookies with more chunks of chocolate than was wise, a book with deliriously sappy romance, and a hopeful smile, she had decided to forgive him for any transgressions and had welcomed him into her space with greedy hands and eager smiles. Stretched out in the sun, listening as he read of forbidden lovers overcoming their obstacles and eating her weight in chocolatey decadence, she had been content. Sleeping until a frantic Selly shouting them awake moments before her ball, the beginning of the court’s season at that, had not been the plan.

Before Áine swept pass to greet her brother, she reached up and wiped at a speck of chocolate below the corner of the Viceroy’s lip. “I knew you were sneaking cookies.” She tsked with a pat to the back of her hair. His light laughter followed her from the room.

On the path of ancient stone outside her wing of the palace, she found her brother leaning against a stone archway, his back to her. Her beautiful brother with is quiet eyes turning to watch her approach, silver hair gleaming in the setting sun.

“You were late to your birth, just as you are late to your celebration all these centuries later.”

Áine paused at the unexpected teasing, a pleased grin curling up one corner of her lips. “Perhaps my wish this year will be for the virtue of timeliness to at last be granted to me.”

“A virtue that is wasted on immortals.” He said with an arch look before holding out his hand which she readily placed one of her own in.

“A new horse it is then.” The warmth in his normally cold gaze was enough to fuel her happiness for the next three hundred years, but just as always, it did not last long. Within a heartbeat of her jest, the silver ember faded, leaving his expression empty. It was not difficult for her to guess the reason behind the wrenching darkness that shadowed them now, for it haunted her as well.

“Before we go to the ballroom, I would like to stop by my chambers for a moment of privacy with you. So that I might give you my gift.” Auberon said, already beginning to walk.

“Of course. It will give Ge’els a moment to wipe the chocolate away.” At Auberon’s brief glance, Áine was encouraged to elaborate. With a wave of her free hand she continued. “I’ve been put out by him and he must have finally caught on and decided to ply me with chocolate chunk cookies, a few of which he absconded whilst I wasn’t looking.”

“Why were you angry with him?”

Áine pondered the question as well as her answer. “I don’t rightly know. I suppose it is many things, small and insignificant. Yet as they go unaddressed, they begin to feel burdensome and begin to buckle.”

“I thought you would one day marry him.”

There was a long stretch of silence as they neared his rooms as Áine considered all the reasons why she should have said yes to the man when he had indeed asked to pledge himself to her and her to him. “I could… perhaps I should. It’s just…” She slipped her hand from Auberon’s arm as she came to a stop and stared at some spot in the distance.

“Just…” Auberon encouraged, giving her a bit of bravery.

“I felt as if I was settling. When I looked into his eyes after he indeed asked to be mine… I couldn’t help thinking – no - _hoping_ that there was something greater out there than what I felt for him. And I felt a great deal for him.” Áine’s gaze flickered to his before dropping away. “I know that makes me sound incredibly selfish and spoiled, and it’s highly unlikely that there is anything better than Ge’els.”

“Áine… wanting your own great love is not selfish or spoiled. Knowing what you want and having the patience to wait for it is anything but.” Auberon spoke quietly, taking one of her hands in his and squeezing lightly. “Too many are so terribly afraid of being alone, they attach themselves to the first kind smile given, only to find they now live wretchedly.”

She couldn’t bear to think the unfair words that pushed along the edges of her mind. To ask herself and him, if that is what had happened to him with Lara’s mother, Shiadhal. Her brother had been through enough, so she refused the thoughts she held within her, but she dipped her head slightly in acknowledgement of his wise counsel.

Romantic that she was, a great love story was indeed what she had held out for.

Auberon led her into his main chamber before leaving her in the center while he drifted off to retrieve his gift. Elegance woven into every thread of his wing, rooms that he had occupied for his entire life. Blues, silvers, and blacks adorned his rugs, his drapes, and even the tapestries. Model ships lined the mantle of the fireplace, and constellations were mapped out across the high ceiling.

The sight of them pained Áine, as she took in what the burden of a kingdom had taken from her brother. An adventurer, sailing across worlds, guided by their stars… that is who he would have been if born into another life.

With effort, Áine fought back the evidence of her quickly fraying emotions just as Auberon reappeared from a darkened doorway, a box of polished wood held carefully in his hands. Watching as he lifted the lid, her breath caught at the sight of what lay within on a pillow of crushed velvet.

“The crown father commissioned for mother upon learning you were on the way.” Auberon said quietly before sitting the box on the nearest table and lifting the crown into the candle light.

Silvers cradling gems of blue, smaller at the ends with each gem larger than the previous before the center, oval cut sapphire with pearl and silver outlines outshined the rest. It was beautiful and wrenched her heart from her chest. A king’s gift to a queen, an attempt to thank her for the gift of a daughter.

“It occurred to me this morning that it was your right to have this long ago. Something they would have wanted you to have.” Auberon lifted the crown before gently settling it amongst the waves of her hair.

Áine never took her gaze from his eyes, seeking out the smallest hint of emotion as he stepped back to take her in. “Thank you, brother.” She managed to whisper around the tightness of her throat.

“Come… we are well and truly late to your ball now.”

Summoning up a smile, she held out her hand. “I’m a terrible influence, I know.”

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Smiles, warm and firmly in place. Cheery words, teasing and fully embraced. Guest after dully important guest. Gift after dully considered gift, Áine was counting the heartbeats until she could leave the revelers to their expensive revelry and disappear off to her true celebration.

A sigh, just the barest whisper of sound from her left spoke of similar thoughts settling about her brother. Not the secret celebration she would sneak off to soon… there was not a reality in even the most imaginative of minds in which her brother would willingly partake of her own little tradition once her presence was no longer expected. She almost wished they could call off ridiculous celebrations such as this, but the day of her birth signaled the true beginning of spring for their people.

Of vacations to the seaside, horse racing, flower scented nights, falling in love, and free flowing wine. Her people had come to enjoy the beginning of the season, the first ball of many, setting the tone for the rest of the warm months. And with the frost apparently nipping at their heels, the people, titled or not, could use the excuse of distraction to get them through the approaching reality of extinction.

Áine’s eyebrow began to itch - an itch she could not scratch in present company - and paired with the overly dramatic turn of her thoughts, she was quickly beginning to sink into bored desperation for something to happen. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy the glamor of her surroundings, nor the work that she and hers had put into it. Nor was it the admiration heaped onto her, the compliments of her dress and such the like.

But the faces before her were blurring into the next, and a new thought had taken root in a far corner of her mind. Where was _he_ at? She had invited him, that was certain, and he had indeed sent a reply that he accepted…

Áine forced some focus into her eyes and swept them across the expansive ballroom, the pillars of delicate carved gold wrapped in roses, the prettily costumed dancers and the servants weaving through the crowd still awaiting their opportunity to be granted an audience with the king and herself. Only those with a true level of familiarity had brought gifts for her publicly and each was graciously accepted and placed by Selly on a table behind the thrones to be sorted at a later date.

With a smile of fondness, she thought of the delicately painted garden scene Caranthir had gifted her, claimed an up and coming artist had sold it to him on the street and had thought of her immediately. Áine had spoken of her intrigue of this young artist and if the slight reddening of the tips of his ears were any indication, the Golden Child was intrigued as well.

Ah Caranthir… Áine’s gaze settled on his perfectly lithe form leaning against one of those pillars. She frowned slightly at the sight of his shoulder crushing the roses wrapped around the pillar.

“What has put such a displeased look on you my princess?” Ge’els spoke as he stepped up the steps leading to the dais. Lord and Lady Something waited for him to wave them forward, but he paused as he waited for her to give her answer. Maeve stood beside the couple looking beautifully deadly in the finery she’d had to force the guard into. Of course, once Maeve had a chance to see the end result, she’d taken in her reflection with appreciative awe, a look that had been glanced in her direction more than once.

Áine was thankful for her presence as she stood unofficially on guard with a relaxed pose, speaking with another Lady Something.

There were presently two reasons for her frown but Ge’els would no doubt be bored with her irritation toward his fellow comrade. Time to give her dear, gossip hungry Ge’els something to ponder on.

With her gaze on the grand entry where he should have been announced by now as none had been in quite some time leaving her to believe even the stragglers had made their way into the crush, her frown deepened. “The sage has yet to arrive… Auberon did something come up before you came to collect me?” She swung her gaze to her side to see her brother, with his perfectly ridged posture shake his head.

“No, I have not seen Avallac’h this day past.”

Áine met Ge’els gaze, pleased to see he was indeed curious about her own curiosity over the sage. “I have not either. Then again, I see Ciri has yet to arrive as well.”

She matched his pointed look with her own. Of course, perhaps he was finally making progress with understanding the child’s ancient blood. If that was the case, then of course she could understand their missed attendance. It caused her a small twinge of sadness that she would not see Ciri elegantly made up as the Empress she would surely one day be, as well as the opportunity to fluster the stuffy robes that was her brother’s favorite sage.

Rather she would have to make do with smiling graciously to Lord and Lady Something and - Áine rolled her eyes as the most recent merry wishers trailed off to enjoy the dancing only to find Eredin next. He was darkly elegant in that beautiful way only dangerous warriors like him could be, posed with a foot already resting on the second step, allowing him to lean forward and brace an elbow on the elevated knee.

The pose allowed him to make sultry eyes at her through dark lashes, and the tilt of the corner of his mouth told her it was all on purpose. The realization made her huff a laugh as she prepared herself to deal with his obvious machinations in his declaration to pursue her.

Tilting a nod to Ge’els she wondered at the small package in Eredin’s hands - it had better be appropriate whatever it was - her thoughts over the gift were abruptly shocked into silence at the scene that unfolded before her - a laugh pulled joyously from her chest.

Eredin, given his signal to approach straightened from his smoldering pose, his perfect lips curving into a deadly smirk - only to fall face first into the stairs he was just beginning to ascend, a perfectly innocent Maeve standing beside him.

“Careful there Glas.” Maeve said with a serious expression before offering her hand to the fallen soldier.

The snarl he turned on Áine’s favorite guard should have sent the woman spouting apologies but instead the only change in her demeanor came from the lifting of her brows in a silent challenge. Naturally Eredin ignored the offered hand and practically stomped up the stairs as Áine attempted to stifle her laughter.

He began to weave together words and smiles meant to charm, but Áine heard none of them. Something whispered in her mind to turn her gaze to the far entrance, just as a familiar shade of slate appeared, followed by wisps of ashen. He - _they_ were here.

The ability to breath left her when, despite the extensive distance, his gaze sought out hers.

Avallac’h.

Later, when she laid across her bed, her gaze watching the moonlit clouds roll on the other side of her glass ceiling, she would realize the music had swelled along with her anticipation of his approach. The air had turned sweet. Ge’els, Eredin, all of them ceased to exist when he at last stood at the bottom of the stairs, his hands clasped behind his back in that way that had her dragging the tip of her tongue along the edge of her teeth.

At the time the movement brought a twinge of embarrassment from their chance interaction, but the way his gaze traced over her chased it back promptly. There was an appreciation gleaming in them that far outshined the smug arrogance Eredin continued to lavish her with.

“Your Highness.” Ge’els whispered into her ear, and it was then that she realized she had been completely lost in her thoughts of Avallac’h. It was with effort that she glanced to Ge’els, to his smile tinged with apprehension. “Eredin has a gift.” He said quietly.

Startled, but not strong enough to withstand the need to send one last glance to Avallac’h, she swallowed thickly. She couldn’t read his expression, he was always rather accomplished when he wore that impenetrable mask, but he continued to watch her, waiting his turn. A small wave of shame washed over her when Ciri leaned up to whisper in his ear, forcing her to realize that she had completely ignored her niece’s arrival.

And just like that, Áine was reminded of her role in all of this. She was not here, sitting on her throne to make eyes at someone who couldn’t stand her. She was better than that, and she deserved better than the effect he had on her while she appeared to have none on him. Just like Eredin, Avallac’h had a glean for her physical charms. And that was it.

Foolish girl that she was, she’d allowed herself to for several heartbeats to fancy something deeper, and the result had been her sinking so far that she’d failed to acknowledge her niece. Her family who needed her. Today was not a day of happiness for her as much as it was a gateway, she opened for others to find their own happiness, as they had long ago forgotten what else this day aught to have meant to them. It was a day to do her duty, to make others happy, and just get through it.

With her hands curling around the arms of her throne, she swallowed down the rise of acid and focused on Eredin and the package in his hands.

“Eredin. How kind… Selly.” Áine spoke firmly, signaling for the servant to take the gift away.

“I must insist that you open the gift.” Eredin said through clenched teeth when Selly reached for it.

Blinking, Áine had not even realized that she had not done so. Forcing herself not to glare at Avallac’h for again causing her to forget herself, she silently reached for the gift and untied the silk wrapped around a wooden box.

Within she found a chunky pieced of jewelry, a necklace heavy with gems and gold, so terribly gaudy she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. With watering eyes, she looked back at Eredin and forced her tone to remain pleasant. “Thank you Eredin… you know my tastes exactly.” Watching as he gave her a satisfied smile and bow, she was already planning on which charity to donate the money the necklace would bring once she had it sold, discreetly of course.

As he made his way from the dais, Avallac’h shifted and prepared to be given leave to approach, and if it weren’t for the presence of Ciri doing the same, Áine realized she would have called an end to the gifts and have Ge’els whisk her off to the dancing. That was all she wanted to do, the last thing she _had_ to do before disappearing.

But Ciri looked beautiful and confident despite being surrounded by others that would happily run her through if not for the protection of the crown, and if there was one gift Áine truly wanted other than Auberon’s, it was from her niece.

Keeping her eyes and smiles only for Ciri, she watched as they ascended, bowed to herself and Auberon.

“Happy birthday Áine.” Ciri said with a genuine smile before holding out a small package which she immediately accepted. A worn deck of cards. At Áine’s raised brows, Ciri launched into an explanation. “Gwent. A pastime from home… I came across a few humans in the city that had a deck brought over when they were… taken.”

Tracing a finger lightly over the top card, Áine looked up through her lashes with an excited grin. “Teach me to play?”

Ciri tilted her chin proudly. “Absolutely. I’ve got quite the reputation though… I never lose.”

Áine hummed wickedly at the challenge. “Give me a few hands to learn the game, and I shall happily relieve you of that undefeated title.”

Ciri tipped her head back with her laugh. “We shall see Princess. We shall see.” Pausing, she looked over to the man at her side. “Go on Avallac’h, Her Highness awaits your gift.”

Immediately, Áine’s smile slipped away and she was at last forced to once more meet his gaze, but what she found gave her pause. The serious mask he’d worn had slipped enough for a flash of apprehension so raw it had her blinking several times. It stilled her own emotions, her displeasure at herself and him, the grief lingering on the fringes.

But just as quickly as it appeared, his expression turned solid once more and he took several steps closer. Rather than meet his gaze, she traced over his shoulders, taking in the shade of blue for what appeared to be a new set of robes. It aught to have irked her how well they hugged his lithe form, but all she could think of for several heartbeats were the Aen Saevherne markings curving around his shoulders and down his arms, his chest and ribs. Her gaze traveled down along with the memory until the markings had disappeared below the blanket and she was found she was still rather disappointed to have never seen the display that was his-

“Your Highness… while I - _we_ work towards a solution for the roses, I thought you - well. I made these for you.”

Avallac’h’s voice snapped her attention from admiring his form, a wave of heat flooding her face. She clenched her teeth in irritation at her reaction before forcing an interested smile to her lips. A smile that turned into a look of awe when he pulled a small blue pot from behind his back with a fledgling rose bush planted within.

The small flowers were breathtaking and unlike any she had seen before, satiny pink in the center before fading to a pale gold until the gold faded into silver at the tips. Without hesitation she raised from her throne and stepped close. Breathlessly she touched the tip of a finger to one of the soft petals as his words registered to her.

Lifting her gaze to find him watching her carefully, she swallowed thickly. “You… created these?”

“Genetic manipulation…” His gaze shifted into the one he used when he was about to get sagely, a look she was rather fond of if she were honest with herself. “I need some more time to perfect them. I felt the gold could be more prominent since it was meant to represent your hair.”

Áine felt her chest clench painfully in a way that was unbelievably pleasant at the same time, whether because he had begun to ramble, or because he had created something meant to represent _her._

“And the silver?” She asked quietly, her gaze never breaking from his.

“Your eyes.”

“And the pink?” When he answered with a dip of his gaze to her lips, Áine felt her knees go weak. “They’re perfect Avallac’h… I shall plant them first thing in the morning.” It took every speck of strength she could claw together to step away and wave Selly forward. To pull her gaze from his clear blue eyes and look toward Ge’els instead.

Knowing his role, the Viceroy stepped forward and bowed over an offered hand. “A dance?”

Feeling as if her skin had grown too tight to contain her emotions, needing to put space between herself and the sage, herself and revelers, herself and this horrible day, Áine gratefully accepted his hand and allowed him to lead her away.

Away from her throne, and away from the man she was beginning to realize was a danger to her well kept emotions. Shaking her head to herself she knew it would be quite the twist for her to fall in love with someone who at some points could not stand to be in her presence… and yet more and more often…

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments and kudos, Lisaflowers and I love each and everyone and you should see us gushing about each one that we get. We love yall!!!!
> 
> Next chapter will have a Avallac'h POV of this chapter before continuing on beyond to the real fun!!!! Sea yall there <3


	10. Until the Sun Rises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for this one being late! The stars were not in my favor when it came to productivity and hopefully we all learned a lesson in when i say im going to have it ready by such n such day- add like two days to that. Especially during this time of year

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The look Ciri was giving him set Avallac’h on edge. It was a look of knowing and exasperation. One he’d been known to wear quite often during his long lived life. And it did absolutely nothing to soothe his frayed nerves and surprising apprehension.

“For the last time Avallac’h, you did a fine job. Áine will be pleased. Immensely so.” Ciri said, propping a hand on her hip. She was already clothed in her ballroom finery with her hair tossed into a loose wrap. She was a painful reminder to a lifelong past, but she was vastly different than her ancestor. A humor about her despite the hardships her birth had brought.

It was easy to see, at least now after having spent time in her presence, why Áine was so fond of the child. A fondness that was returned.

Ciri had followed him after his disastrous encounter with the princess in the gardens and after a great deal of well warranted teasing, she had assured him that he had not been a bumbling idiot. He had been charming, and even went so far as to whisper that his feelings were likely returned.

Torn between arguing that he did _not_ harbor feelings for the princess and arguing that the princess in turn did _not_ harbor similar feelings for himself, had been left in silence. Ciri had swept from the laboratory leaving his mind in chaos as he allowed the idea to take root.

Vines of memory splayed out, replaying scenes with great details and making mental note of emotions tied with each one. Lustful cravings, he certainly had to acknowledge. Enjoyment out of their interactions, surprisingly yes.

So, in the end he admitted, silently so, that yes, his feelings went beyond what was expected or what was proper. That said nothing as to what she felt for him and even if she did carry similar sentiments, was he willing to act on them? He’d taken a chance before, a chance that had not turned out well for all involved… this second chance terrified him more than the first, in ways that he had yet to form words for.

“We’re late Avallac’h, let’s go before she decides you left her to rot on her birthday.” Ciri snapped, her voice like that of a whip, successfully bringing him out of his head heavy with turmoil. “Hold them behind your back, she’ll be more surprised if she sees them for the first time close up.”

Silently, Avallac’h thanked his young companion for he was not in a state to consider such details, and he was admittedly nervous.

An affliction that followed him to the ballroom and increased as he found her across the grandly decorated room. She was everything she should be with her curves accentuated gracefully by her dress, one that appeared to be worth every coin she must have spent on it, her hair a lovely cloud for her sparkling crown. A crown he recognized.

As he approached, she had her attention on Eredin and he was forced to watch the other man lavish her with an expensive looking necklace that brought a smile to her lips. He told himself that he knew her well enough to know that it was a smile of exasperation rather than doting pleasure, but in his nervous state he honestly couldn’t say for certain.

He vaguely heard Ciri whisper in his ear that Áine could hardly take her eyes off him, but it hadn’t seemed that way to him.

When at last the time came for Eredin to saunter away, Avallac’h forced his grip to loosen around the flowers behind his back, and the moment Ge’els gave his nod, he led Ciri up the stairs.

With hollow hearing he watched the exchange between Ciri and Áine with only the thought that she - the princess - was beyond beautiful on her worst days. But like this, among her people, with her mother’s crown shining down on them, she made it difficult to breathe.

“Go on Avallac’h, Her Highness awaits your gift.” Ciri said, alerting him that the moment was upon him.

He blinked back his apprehension, eager to give her the flowers and move on. His voice was not as steady as he would have liked but Ciri’s presence was comforting. It was nice to have someone almost like a friend on his side.

He watched her stand, held his breath, and took in every detail of her expression. The way her eyes studied the roses, the parting of her lips, the freckles dusting across her nose. “You… created these?”

Words, dozens of them threatened to tumble from his lips, explaining everything from why to how and even where but he managed to keep it simple. He was of enough mind to realize that there was more she likely wanted to do rather than listen to him prattle on about science.

For some awful reason he did specify why he choose the colors he did but when she asked about the pink and his gaze dropped to her lips, he felt the desire, the _need_ to taste them with everything in him. Quickly he shifted back to her gaze, searching for any sign that she felt the same.

But his moment was taken when Ge’els stepped forward and swept her away for a dance and for the first time in ages past, he wanted to be the one to sweep the beautiful princess away for a dance.

Instead, he was left behind without a backward glance, to watch as she was spun across the floor in the arms of her former lover. Watch as she smiled up at him. Watch him catch her when she stumbled.

Avallac’h frowned, curious as to why a woman born, bred, and then trained daily for centuries in the art of ballroom dance, could make such a mistake. More than ever, he watched her as surreptitiously as possible, but never did she stumble again. Alcohol had not been involved, he was certain. The Viceroy was an equally exceptional partner, so then what was it…

So diligent were his efforts to watch without actually watching that he nearly missed her slipping away through the crowd. A quick sweep of the room and he located Ge’els still dancing, only with a different partner.

Something was… off. He could feel it in the air. Why would the princess disappear from her own ball…

Dodging servants carrying sparkly drinks and guests attempting to make pleasantries - or more likely unpleasantries, Avallac’h left through the nearest exit. He began to turn toward the garden but paused as a flutter of blue fabric disappeared around a corner in the opposite direction.

Attempting to keep his thoughts rational, he followed behind. But deep down he had a feeling he knew what she was about to attempt. No one looked around corners and down dark hallways before darting to the next unless they had no wish to be seen. And when Áine had no wish to be seen, it meant she was going somewhere she knew he - and her brother - would not approve of.

There was no holding back his sigh when his suspicions were confirmed with her slipping through to the path that led to the stables, and he knew he had no choice but to intervene.

When he stepped into the stable, he found Áine digging through a saddle bag.

“I was unaware that the night’s festivities were extended to evening rides.” He spoke with forced pleasantness.

Her hands paused a moment but she did not glance at him before resuming her rifling. “Not today Avallac’h, any day other than today.” She pulled a few items of clothing free of the bag before slipping off her crown and putting it inside.

“I must insist, if you wish to ride through the city that is fine. But for your own safety, someone must accompany you.” He had to admit silently that he was feeling slightly confused but he could not be swayed from his duty.

The look she turned on him was full of emotion. “Follow me if you must insist Avallac’h however stay out of my way if you do.”

The blood in his veins froze as he realized that she was not merely taking a jaunt but running away. Before he could find the words to ask why, she disappeared into a stall, where after a moment, her dress was tossed over the half door.

Resisting the need to clear his throat he merely moved to another stall and quickly set about saddling a horse. By the time he was done, he found Áine already outside and settling into the saddle now wearing a simple linen shirt tucked into a long skirt that she’d bunched around her thighs to give her the freedom of riding astride. Without word he joined her side and they set out into the night.

The glow of the palace, the dancing, and the music were all left behind, for what Avallac’h did not know.

Occasionally Áine would glance his way, often enough that he became concerned something had gone awry with his appearance. “What is it? Did someone smudge me with icing?” He asked anxiously, thinking of all the little cakes being carried around in the ballroom.

A small smile slipped across her lips before disappearing, along with her attention moving back to the road. “No, actually you look very nice. I’m just surprised that you of all people do not understand the true meaning of this day. I mean… blockheads like Eredin and the rest of the gentry, of course I’m not surprised. Disappointed in them? Yes. Surprised? No.”

It was then that he thought to look deeper and felt like an utter heel. “I understand Your Highness.”

“Do you?” She asked with a quick glance toward him before sighing deeply. “I suppose it is the way of things. A king… A queen… They devote their entire lives to their people, the decent ones at least. And then when they die, they are reduced to mere statues. Points of interest with folk using them as way markers. ‘Take a left at Órlaith’s statue and you’ll find the best meat pies.’”

After a huff, she continued. “I understand, I do. I just don’t particularly enjoy celebrating the day my mother died. Not when if brought my father and brother so much pain…”

“You have your own pain as well Your Highness. I had precious few years with my mother… you none at all and I cannot imagine how that must ache within you. But… people are eager to be distracted. From their troubles,  their responsibilities, their own hurts.”

“And I am happy to bring them some of that… However, every year I hope that _this_ will be the year where I don’t look out at the laughter and dancing and want to scream at the top of my lungs, asking them what is wrong with them? How can they be happy when a woman who was once so a part of them, one who is so desperately missed by my brother and yes - myself - died?”

“That year will never come.” He said honestly. “And someday, your child will feel the same way. Perhaps their birthday will not be on the same day as your passing, but people will still smile and laugh, and that happiness will bring pain, even unknowingly.”

Áine was silent for a long moment as they made their way through the quiet city streets. He would have thought Tir ná Lia abandoned if it weren’t for the glow of a bonfire in the distance where he could hear music and laughter. With her safety forefront in his mind, he sidled his horse closer to hers to where their thighs were a mere hand width apart.

“I would not want that. I would not want my child to endure so.”

“And neither would your mother. How do you believe she would have faced today, had she still been here?”

“I did not know her, so how could I know that Avallac’h?”

Avallac’h rolled his eyes well within view of her. “You have been told countless stories of her so I’m certain you know enough to form a guess, you’re simply being stubborn now.” He chuckled lightly as she lobbed a fist into his shoulder. “Is such violence the answer for your dramatics? Now, as someone who did know your mother, I can with extreme confidence tell you that she loved to celebrate. Everything was worthy cause to be surrounded with loved ones and making others smile. Auberon’s first successful transfiguring of a silver spoon into a horse figurine? I was stuffed into stiffly laundered robes for four hours in the drawing room as she showed it off to everyone she knew.”

She flashed him a genuine grin. “I shall keep that in mind. Stuffing you into itchy robes while I have half the court admire my new roses.”

Avallac’h was entranced by the teasing in her voice and the sparkle in her eye. Had he put that there? Talked her back from her grief and made her smile?

The sounds of a raucous gathering grew louder, and the horses carried them through an alley and onto a path leading into the hills beyond the city.

“I don’t think I properly said thank you for them. They are beautiful.” She said, smilingly widely.

“You are quite welcome. Now I have to ask… where are we going?”

She hummed in answer as they crested a hill and came to a stop. “To the real party.”

Looking below, there was a respectable fire surrounded by musicians playing folk music, people dancing, children darting through the crowd, laughter rising above as barrels flowed freely into cup after cup.

Before Avallac’h could come up with a proper protest, Áine urged her horse to continue down the hill, shouts beginning to rise along with sloshing tankards as people began to take notice of her arrival. She had been expected.

“This is not the first time you’ve done this.” He asked above the noise as he caught up to her.

“Been coming here for a long time. They toast my mother and then they treat me like one of their own for this one night.”

“You are one of them, we all are.”

Áine sent him an arch look. “You might have a few callouses on your hand from that staff of yours and I from pulling a few weeds, but they have them from building our world and keeping it going. We are nothing like them. But for tonight we are. Don’t forget to call me Àine.”

Those emotions Avallac’h had been attempting to understand were shaken and took more effort than ever to keep hidden behind proper boundaries. Rather than protest and argue, he slipped from the saddle as she did and lashed the horse to a nearby post. He’d hardly finished the tie off before Áine grasped two of his fingers and pulled him into the fray.

Cheers were lifted into the air as well as tankards and within a breath both he and Áine had cheap smelling spirits shoved into their free hands. While he eyed it cautiously, Áine lifted it high with her own answering cheer before tipping back a great gulp.

Unease pooled in his chest at the thought of Áine coming to this celebration year after year, drinking as she now was… alone. He wondered how such a thing could have gone on for so long and he vowed silently that never again. She might believe she could handle herself…

“Your Highness-” He began until the look Áine sent him had him rolling his eyes. “Áine. I’m certain-” He was stopped again, this time by a tightening of her hand around his two smaller fingers.

Áine took another long drink before handing it off to a random stranger and turning to him with bright eyes. “Only drink enough for the blood to become light, and then dance the night away.” And before Avallac’h could put together a single thought, he was tugged into the dancing people gathered around the large fire.

The moment became a gathering of images. Firelight dancing across laughing faces but none captured him like hers. Her flowing skirt swirled around his legs, the pale green tangling with his dark blue. Carefully swept hair was shaken free of its bindings. The warmth of the fire and the breathless dancing brought a sheen to her brow.

But all these images paled in comparison to the complete freedom in her smile. And he would forever remember that it was not the handsome young farmer who stopped them to put a ribbon of sea shells around her neck that she smiled at, but at him.

It had him pulling her close as he gave in. He led her through song after song, spinning through the people and giving anyone who tried to steal her away an arch look until they dashed away. Never once did she stumble as she had back in the ballroom but occasionally her hand would fist in the fabric at his shoulder and her expression never hinted as to why.

“I do believe Avallac’h, that you are a Áine hog.” She chirped to him when she announced she was thirsty and led him by those same two fingers to hunt for another tankard.

“I am here to-”

She looked at him pointedly. “No talk of duties. Only drinking and dancing.”

“Why are you dancing? With me that is. You only ever dance with Ge’els.” He finally asked the question that had been burning through his mind for what felt like ages now.

Her grin was crooked, and she took a step back to run her gaze over him. “I have my reasons.”

He refused to shift his stance at her lingering look and considered playing whatever game she seemed to want to play. “Ah. I believe I know.”

Áine lighted her brows in amusement. “Do you now?”

Before he could continue the back and forth, she’d instigated, a burly man knocked into his back, sending him dangerously close to her. Enough so that he could see the flames turning her silver eyes golden and taste the spirits on her breath. He didn’t hear the man apologize with a heavy hand dropped onto his shoulder.

He did however remember his next line, prepared the moment he’d decided to take a chance. “You secretly find me dashingly irresistible.”

“Do I now?” She replied immediately, taking a sip of her drink. A few damp strands of her hair stuck to her neck and he slowly lifted a finger and brushed them free, allowing him to take a moment to draw the pad of his finger down the soft skin. “It’s hardly a secret Avallac’h.”

His breath froze in his lungs, no longer certain if she were honest or merely continuing the banter. He knew which he wanted… or at least thought he did. He was still just a lowborn with absolutely nothing to his name in which to offer her, if that was even where his wants could possibly lead him.

“You find me irresistible hmm?” He attempted a charming smile when her eyes widened.

“Oh, I thought - oh my. I thought you said you found _me_ irresistible!” She tipped her head back and laughed and looked so beautiful while doing it he could hardly be annoyed with her teasing. Perhaps things had gotten too serious too quickly, and he was thankful for the reminder. She was his friend’s little sister, and far too above him for anything serious to ever be considered, but seeing her laugh, _bringing_ that laughter out, was enough. “Come along my dashingly irresistible Sage, sunrise is coming, and I want to dance as it does.”

Her wish was his command, something he could grant without preamble. He could allow himself this one night where he too heeded her words. They were just like everyone else. It didn’t matter in those few heartbeats as the sun rose that they would return to the roles they had either been born into or chosen. Whether feelings might be on the cusp of blossoming into something real and worthy, or if duty of birth should take precedence over them. Or to even worry if they were returned.

Áine with her crown of soft hair floated through the firelight in his arms and when the sun rose, he settled her across his lap and allowed the horse to carry them back to the palace. She leaned her head against his chest making plans for the roses he’d created for her and remarking her surprise that he was so fleet of foot when it came to dancing.

He didn’t mention that Ciri had spent the day teaching him a few steps while he worked to create the roses.

* * *

* * *

 

  


	11. In Sunlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN// Many… many… apologies for the delay. In between holidays, home life, work life, my own obsessive tendencies and getting lost in other worlds, added into this being a difficult chapter to write… days turned into weeks and then months.
> 
> Thank you for your patience! You too Lisaflowers for being there after the days of me dropping off the face of the earth and putting up with me haha!
> 
> Let me know your thoughts and feelings, they greatly help me when it comes to getting the next chapter going and filling it with the right level of emotion.
> 
> Muwah

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* * *

 

 

The moment Áine awoke the morning following her birthday, she couldn’t wait to step outside… for when she opened her still sleep heavy gaze, they alighted on the beautiful roses that were created just for her, in a plain brown pot sitting on a table beside her bed, just waiting to be planted in the perfect spot.

A smile curved her lips as she pulled a pillow from the mountain of endless pillows from behind her and hugged it to her chest. The scent of fire lingering in her hair, she could still taste the cheap wine and the feel of two hands holding her close.

With a languid stretch, Áine bit at her lip in a poor attempt to gain some control over her expression. She’d made a decision that night… one that had two possible outcomes. She didn’t yet know when she would act on her decision… perhaps Ge’els or even Maeve would have wise counsel.

A toss of the heavy blankets and pillows, and Áine slipped from her bed. The hour was early - or as early as one could expect after dancing until dawn, and thankfully she suffered no ill effects from the festivities from the night before.

Her blood singing, her breath had been as light as her feet, and for once, the wine had not been the cause. No, the fire dancing in a pair of jewel colored eyes and the small, somewhat crooked smile of her dance partner had been wholly responsible for the state of her happiness.

After a quick bath, Áine studied her appearance as she slipped on a dress. It was not at all suitable for digging in the garden, and should a certain Sage see her doing so in it, he would surely have no less than a glare and barking remark, but she knew his ire flashing in his eyes would only brighten her smile. Some day she would tell him that if he didn’t like something then he must surely keep it to himself. He was only revealing a way in which to goad him deliciously otherwise.

Besides, the dress was loose and comfortable, not to mention a shade that complimented her eyebrows and Auberon had gifted it to her himself a handful of years ago. It would be perfect to visit her brother in before she became elbow deep in soil.

After quickly tying her hair up into a high placed stream of pale gold curls, Áine left to meet Ge’els for a late breakfast. The sunshine was warm upon her face and the air was scented sweet with flowers and the song of birds coming from the trees lining the path.

“Good morning Your Highness!” Selly called out. She smiled - somewhat strained in appearance - over her shoulder as she set out a platter piled high with fruit.

Áine paused to examine the leaf of an ivalace, taking note of the dull color. “You as well Selly. Remind me to clean the windows this week. The ivalace could use a bit of fresh sunlight.” After Selly’s murmur of acknowledgement Áine settled in her usual spot. “Has Ge’els not yet been by?” She asked, noticing his delicately painted cup of coffee. With a wag of a finger, she warmed the cooling liquid, smiling as tendrils of steam once more curled into the air.

“Not yet… but you know the Viceroy… he has never missed a morning at your side.”

Taking a deep inhale of the sweetened brew, Áine let out a rare sigh of contentment. “Right you are. I have much to discuss with him.”

“Oh?”

“Mmm.” Áine took a sip from her delicate cup. “We’ve a busy day ahead of us. After breakfast, we shall visit my brother, I wish to thank him for the gift of our mother’s crown. I know it’s not conventional for me to seek him out, I know he is busy and burdened with a kingdom of responsibilities, but perhaps if I put more effort in including him, I can bring about a bit of sparkle to his eyes.”

“I-I certain that you will. Have you other plans after visiting the King?” Selly asked while busying herself with straightening already straight dishes on the table.

Áine lifted a brow at her servant’s actions but refrained from comment and instead popped a grape into her mouth. While she chewed, she considered places to plant her roses, something that brought about the smile to her face again.

“My… I have never seen such an expression on you so soon after waking.” Selly said cheerfully.

“Yes well… I’ve received many gifts over the years. But none created just for me. I don’t mean a dress or painting…” Áine leaned forward in her struck amazement, her eyes wide and staring up at Selly. “I mean a whole new species of flower. Created and named for me.” Collapsing back against her chair, she shook her head. “Did you see how beautiful they are?”

“That I did Your Highness…” Selly trailed off with her gaze focused over her shoulder.

Áine turned her head to follow her gaze and as she expected, there stood a straight poised Ge’els just inside the door. “There you are my dear! Hurry and sit, I’ve got some news and would like your advice.”

Ge’els took a step toward her. “Nothing would bring me more joy than to join you and hear your news… but you must allow me to speak of mine first.”

From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Selly covering her face with both hands and turning away. With new perspective Áine noticed the grim press of his lips and the tight clench of his fists. A sick feeling twisted in her stomach and the insufferable weight of fear sat heavy on her chest.

“Ge’els what is it? You’re frightening me.”

Without hesitation he closed the distance between them and fell to his knees at her side. For a moment, he stared at her hands, watched as she clasped and twisted them together before resting both of his on top, holding them still, before finally looking up at her.

“Believe me that it isn’t my intention to frighten you. And I am sorry. Áine my dearest of loves… he’s gone. The King… Auberon-”

“Gone where? Where has my brother gone?” Áine stood abruptly, her iron wrought chair tumbling to its side, but she held to Ge’els hands tightly and stared down at him until he found his feet.

“Ge’els you’re being cruel, making such comments as if- as if-” The disbelief was heavy in her voice and she had to force herself to stop speaking.

“I know it is cruel of me, to deliver such news. But I speak the truth.”

She heard his words as if they were on opposite ends of a long tunnel. They echoed painfully through her bones and the next moments of her life were lost on her. Her awareness vanished into the darkest recesses of her mind until she found herself standing before the door to her brother’s bedroom, Ge’els at her side.

All at once, she could see the familiar room looming before her with its dark décor, quiet sobs from somewhere within echoed painfully through her mind, a cold hand pressed into the small of her back, neither urging her on nor holding her back.

Ge’els.

Every part of her being screamed within her that it couldn’t be true. Auberon was the one constant in her world, and nothing could ever separate them. If not for Ge’els…

Áine tore her gaze from the room to find him gazing down at her with agony etched across his face.

If there was one thing about Ge’els, it was his unwavering honesty. Some might attempt to hide their mistakes or from something that might upset her, but never Ge’els. No… he would never speak such a falsehood. He loved her brother more than he did her, of that she knew…

The pain in his eyes and what it meant left her fighting for her breath and stumbling blindly into Auberon’s room.

Vaguely she felt the presence of several others, a couple of servants, Eredin, and Avallac’h. The servants were huddled by the still burning fireplace seeking comfort from the other while Eredin had Avallac’h backed against a bedpost.

Any mild curiosity she might have felt by their confrontation was immediately smothered by the sight of a still figure laid out in the bed.

Long and pale, hair like ribbons of silk spread across a dark pillow. Finely boned hands laid flat on top of fur coverings. Both perfectly normal on the surface… but it was the stillness of the chest, the peaceful way eyelashes brushed high cheekbones above unmoving lips that shattered something deep inside of her.

Áine had countless memories from her childhood of running the path between their wings. Of flinging open the same door she had just stumbled through and flopping carelessly across his bed as she excitedly sharing stories from her day as he quietly listened and played chess with himself. Eventually she had outgrown such theatrics and their time together had calmed to meeting in her solarium over glasses of wine and watching the stars shine across the night sky.

But never had she ever come into her brother’s chambers to find him laid out.

A pained cry was wrenched from her chest.

Strength fled her legs and she fell to her knees at the side of the still form. A sharp pain shot through her wounded thigh, but it was nothing compared to the agony burning through her chest.

She lifted a trembling hand.

The profile of her beautiful brother blurred through a sheen of hot tears.

She brushed the tip of a finger across cold knuckles.

Tears burned trails down her cheeks.

Within her mind she was shouting at him to wake up, that he couldn’t leave her like this. She screamed at the top of her lungs that this was not meant to be the end of him.

“It is the sage who did this, Your Highness.”

“Now is not the time for that Commander.”

Somehow through the screams of denial within her, she made out the voice of Eredin accusing Avallac’h of murder and Ge’els putting a stop to him… but his words ignited something within her.

Áine took a deep if not shaky breath, her gaze tracing the elegant lines of her brother’s face. “Before me my brother and king lies cold. I will hear Glas speak.”

She sensed Eredin taking a step around the bed and closer to her side. He held something at the edges of her vision though she refused to look away from Auberon. “A vial was found where you now kneel. Poison from the Sage’s own collection. Administered by his accomplice, Cirilla, who conveniently has already fled.”

His words lanced through Áine, ravaging her already shattered composure. The child she had defended as a true niece. The man she…

“Thank you Eredin. I will consider your accusations.”

“I shall summon the guards to escort him-”

“That will not be necessary. I said I would consider them.” Áine continued to brush her thumb over cold knuckles.

There was the rustle of fabric behind her.

“We must prepare King Auberon for eternal rest amongst his ancestors… My Queen.”

Áine stopped breathing. Slowly she turned her head to find Ge’els kneeling behind her, his head bowed deeply. From the corner of her eye she saw the two servants follow his example.

Realization began to claw its way through the layers of grief consuming her.

Eredin sent Ge’els a cold glare filled with some emotion she couldn’t begin to understand before he too knelt at the Viceroy’s side.

“My Queen.”

Áine began to scream within her mind again. She wanted to beg them to stop this. She wasn’t their Queen, was never meant to be that person.

But to her horror, they remained, bowing their heads.

With fresh tears she looked at Avallac’h.

His expression was carefully empty. Eyes that had held such fire the night before as they followed her every movement, held nothing but ice now. And for a moment she thought - hoped that he would be the only one to stay standing, if only because it would mean this wasn’t real.

There was none more loyal to her brother than Avallac’h, his friend and confidant since childhood… Eredin’s accusations were too tidy…

But slowly, his cold gaze never leaving hers, he took a knee though he did not bow his head.

“My Queen.”

* * *

* * *

 

The sun shone brightly as all Tir ná Lia mourned.

The breeze was gentle, dancing down streets filled with echoing wails of grief.

As she passed each street, the wails followed Áine Órlaith Rhiannon Muircetach as she walked behind the carriage carrying her brother to the stone and forest halls of their ancestors. Her brother’s horse, a tall beast of silver, pulled the carriage with his head held high, as if he understood that his job was of the utmost importance, and that he must see his master off proudly.

Draped in black, Áine was transported to another time, another cortege. Only then she was a child, and her brother walked beside her while it was their father in the carriage.

Áine balled the hand he had held into a fist.

None walked at her side this time.

Behind her, those closest to Auberon.

Beyond them, the grieving citizens.

She knew countless Aen Elle were with her, but never had she felt more alone.

And rushed.

She’d wanted to protest burying her brother. It was too soon, she wasn’t ready, she was only dreaming, none of this was real. All arguments she had silently shouted at Ge’els. But in the end, she had born the fitting for her mourning dress and the planning of meaningless details with a stiff back and dry face.

Selly had used a glamour to hide the dark circles beneath her eyes from a sleepless night, another to bring a shine to her lackluster hair. Magic she had dismissed the moment she stepped behind the carriage.

If the sun could shine and the air taste sweet with spring, then the world could see her pain.

Her brother was gone, and she was alone. A beautiful life who had lived for his people, who had suffered heartbreak and betrayal, was gone.

Murdered.

By one of those who followed closely behind her.

Abandoned by his daughter’s daughter.

The need to glance back at Avallac’h itched at the back of her skull. She had questions. Needed to understand. To know.

But even in her grief and confusion, she knew that now was not the time. Somehow, between walking the halls of her ancestors’ tombs and having her brother’s crown - Órlaith’s crown - placed upon her head this evening, she would have her questions answered.

She would demand them.

Until then she would attempt to hold her own growing sense of betrayal locked behind a quickly weakening wall.

When the tall iron gates came into view, Áine nearly stumbled, the old pain of her leg haunting her, but she caught her poise in time. She would not shame her brother with the betrayal she had hid from him all those reckless years ago.

Instead she focused on the iron gates, thinking how lovely they looked with ivy climbing up every bar. An ancient statue of Órlaith stood just inside, her ivy covered arm reaching out as if in welcome.

The memory of her hand tightening around Auberon’s in fear followed by his tightening in comfort filled her with the strength to open the gates with a wave of her trembling hand.

Auberon’s horse led her through a forest of stone and wood. Trees reached for the sky, limbs entwining with the statues and pillars that formed the path that would lead to the place prepared soon after her brothers’ birth. The lesser nobles and common people were left behind, with only the highest of council following her.

When she came to her mother’s tomb, she paused, her gaze tracing over a statue so alike her own image. The three hundred and thirteenth anniversary since her mother was laid among the trees was not two days past, an event she couldn’t not even remember, and yet she felt the absence of her mother keenly.

Taking a deep breath, Áine slowly folded her knees, showing her mother a sign of respect she would have happily given her had she been alive. A moment later, she repeated the showing for her father, the hollow ache within her chest making it difficult to breath.

Having memories of her father was just as painful as not having memories of her mother. Thoughts of ‘well at least you had your time with him,’ were no less agonizing as ‘at least you didn’t have to live through her loss.’ Both were horrible and if she had the power…

Áine steeled her spine and turned to her brother’s own tomb.

Sunlight shone through the gently swaying trees, casting shadows that danced across the statue of her brother standing tall and proud. His shoulders were broad but elegantly formed, his expression serious and frozen. He was just as beautiful in stone as he was in flesh.

Blinking back tears she glanced to the small lines of words etched into the base of the statue. _Auberon Gearóid Muircetach_

A gold plate fastened below his name held the name of his daughter _. Lara Dorren aep Shiadhal._

The sight of it, the knowledge of how her brother must have suffered, twisted like a knife in her heart. His daughter abandoned him, abandoned her people, but he’d loved her still. The council would have never accepted a tomb for such a person, but at least her brother was allowed this one kindness. This one expression of his grief.

It took every bit of her remaining strength to watch Avallac’h, Ge’els, Eredin, as well as several other council members step around her and lift her brother from the carriage to be placed within his tomb.

She forced herself to think of how perfect he looked. Dressed in his elegant robes of dark blue and trimmed in snow white fur. His hands in dark leather gloves rested high on his waist.

His crown of silver with deep sapphires matched perfectly.

The reality that her quiet, kind, and loving brother was well and truly gone struck her like lightning.

Auberon was placed in the marble tomb behind his statue and her nails cut into the palms of her hands.

The gate swung closed, glowing blue a moment as magic sealed him inside and she bit her lip to hold back the urge to plead for them to open again.

For a long moment as she struggled to breathe, the council stood to the side, watching her, waiting. She felt their eyes, knew their expectation of her.

She thought back to the long-ago memory of standing with Auberon in the moments after their father’s tomb sealing. He hadn’t given a speech, but instead had sang a song of farewell. His voice had started quiet before gently rising.

She imagined him once more at her side as she did the same. Her voice wasn’t as strong as his had been, but she remembered the words. She sang for him and for Lara. For her father and mother.

And for the brief moment that her gaze met cold blue before moving onto the statue of her, the place where she would one day join her family and ancestors, she sang for herself.

The Áine that had sent flowers to her brother, had sipped wine with him, challenged him for his adherence to his ridiculous sense of duty, was just as dead.

Just as Auberon had done, she turned to make her way home, the mournful song continuing on. She walked through the waiting crowd, her song bringing their silence. Every word of grief sang, her nails cut deeper.

Every step away from Auberon brought her closer to breaking.

And break she would… but not yet.

First she had to become the Queen she never wanted to be.

 

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	12. Queen of the Flame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... it's been awhile eh? I'm eternally sorry for the huge delay. You know the whole life and mental thing and to be honest I was ready to throw the whole thing out and pretend I'd never tried to write anything ever. A huge heartfelt thank you to LisaFlowers for being patient and convincing me to just take some time and to my lovely friends that I have met through my time as a fanfic writer for checking up on me when I went radio silent. 
> 
> I'm back with a fresh perspective and a goal in mind as well as some exciting projects upcoming that will interweave with Dance of Flames so keep an eye out for them.
> 
> Thank you for continuing to read and hopefully enjoy and all the kudos and comments if you do. Each and everyone means so much to me and I'm so happy to be back.
> 
> I've missed you all!!!

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They were waiting for her.

Important men and women from across their land, gathered in the gleaming marble council chamber, each waiting to offer condolences in one breath and thinly veiled suggestions in the next. Eredin would demand to charge after Ciri, Ge’els would want a show of strength and comfort for the people, while most would question her capability.

Such as Avallac’h would, she had not doubt.

But none would question her capability more than herself.

They were waiting for her, but all Áine could do on the day of her coronation as Queen was to sit in the damp grass and stare at the last rose left alive in her garden.

The delicate bloom, blood red and beaded with dew, clung to life in the center of the statue of her self’s chest. Surrounded by brown and decaying blossoms.

Soon it would wither and die, joining the others.

And the curse would continue to spread and decimate, just as the white frost was doing across space and time.

Swallowing painfully against a new wave of grief, Áine knew what she had to do.

A tear tracked down to the curve of her chin as she played the memories of this place through her mind. Under the willow where her father had sat in the grass with her and drank imaginary tea. Dancing through the arch with Auberon remarking on her freckles. Laying in the sun while Ge’els sketched. Avallac’h offering comfort and promises he could never keep.

Planting the first rose and nurturing it endlessly until over the decades and centuries, the small hidden abbey ruin was covered in them. Life was bursting from every crevice, from the worms in the rich soil, the bees after the pollen, to the colorful array of birds enjoying the buffet of insects.

The life within this precious place which had been all her own and no one else’s… was well and truly gone.

And if she had any chance of saving the rest of her life’s work, she would have to destroy any chance of the disease spreading.

Slowly, with the ache in her leg more prominent than ever, Áine eased up to her feet. The late morning dew lingered on the grass, but her bare feet felt none of the cold. The sun was rising above the wall, but she did not close her eyes and smile into it in welcome.

Limping freely, Áine stepped closer to the last rose. The impulsive, spoiled princess inside of her told her to take it, to save this last one. The last of its kind. But the part of her that was already a queen, the part that whispered to do what Auberon would do, was growing stronger with each heartbeat.

A touch.

That is all it took to set the rose afire.

Silver eyes burning with tears, watched the flames quickly consume the dying rose before spreading rapidly among the decaying vines. The heat forced Áine into a slow retreat though she never took her gaze from the growing inferno.

The statue Ge’els had lovingly carved.

The willow.

The stone ruins.

All of it burned without control.

Despite the devastation entrancing her, she felt a presence behind her.

Her eyes glassy and wide, she looked to find Ge’els there. Love and concern shining from his golden gaze.

“I would not have had time for them anyway.” Áine said in a strong voice that surprised them both. She felt anything other than strong.

Ge’els took a step toward her, a hand outstretched. “I will seal the exit with a barrier. Protect the rest of the gardens.”

Áine nodded, at last turning her back to her happiest of places now in ruins. She could have easily done the barrier herself but a part of her was much too tempted to allow this small corner of her world to burn without control.

A testament to how she felt within.

But Ge’els thought himself a savior of her, and well… none of this was his fault. Let him have his moment and offer his comfort. If he thought protecting what was left of her gardens would ease her suffering, well… she could not deny him that.

The further she walked away, the more the heat of the fire faded from her back, the more she stiffened her stride, and the more she asked herself… what would Auberon do?

She knew though.

Áine drew her grief near, and with each step, cast it into a hidden armor.

* * *

 

There was a certain level of scrutiny that Avallac’h was very well familiar with. Quick glances and whispers as those surrounding King Auberon speculated his role within the palace. Be it trusted voice to the king, his rumored closeness with the king’s daughter, or even his ambitious experiments.

Everyone whispered about the lowborn sage who knew his way with the pieces of the game of court.

But this… Avallac’h carefully kept his gaze on the doors to the throne room still firmly shut. The eyes of court had never looked at him with such venom. Curiosity and more than a healthy dose of jealousy, yes. But the noble lords and ladies who sat with him on the council of the crown had already agreed with Eredin in his accusations, casting him as the murderous villain, wholeheartedly guilty of regicide.

Of poisoning his king and friend.

Eredin had been very vocal, so much so to the point where Avallac’h would lay down his life to prove that it was instead the general who had murdered his king. His _friend_.

He’d walked beside the other man for Auberon’s passing, sang the same song of mourning, but where everyone else freely expressed their grief… Eredin remained...

Avallac’h pulled his gaze from the closed doors to the man seated beside him.

No, Eredin did not hold the expression of one devastated by the loss of a king he held most dear. He was not even cold. He was watchful. Calculating. Every word he spoke whether in regards to Avallac’hs guilt or awaiting patiently for their new queen, was precisely thought out.

Eredin may be obvious in his accusations, but his true motives were carefully disguised.

It left Avallac’h in deep thought as to just what Eredin planned, hoped to gain with the murder of their king. He’d expressed his wish to marry Áine, a thought that left him with a metallic taste in his mouth… if the throne was what he was after then certainly murdering the king was not the best way to go about gaining it.

Marriage to Áine would not make him a king.

Avallac’h resisted the need to scrub his palms over his face in frustration and again focused on the doors. There was something missing, some obvious reason to all the madness of the past two days. Something that would answer the whys, allowing him to take logical course of action.

Already he was torn between two pathways.

With the murder of Auberon, his crown passed to Áine. He wanted to believe in her, that she had the interest of her subjects and their home in best. Certainly she loved them, at least the most innocent of the population. His concern came from where or not she had the ability to make the difficult decisions. Her refusal to accept the use of Ciri’s power of the elder blood to save their home and people, cast serious shadows across his certainty in her.

Which led him to the other path he had to consider.

Ciri.

With her disappearance Tir ná Lia was now in grave peril.

Did he stay and continue his role as advisor to the inexperienced monarch, wrestling with his insufferable attraction as he saw her married to someone who would bring strength and stability - literally anyone other than Eredin… or did he use his familiarity with the elder blood to track down the wayward child?

Avallac’h huffed under his breath. His inflated sense of self-importance had grown out of control. More than once he had attempted to curb the now late to her own coronations princesses’ behavior, only to find himself falling under her free spirited spell of sunshine and dances by the fire.

As for Ciri… perhaps he had been wrong. What if-

The throne room doors at last flew open.

All idle chatter ceased immediately as every eye turned to the empty doorway. Avallac’h immediately stood and one by one, the council rose from their seats. With shoulders held stiff, he moved down the stairs leading to the throne and awaited the procession.

Instead of the four dozen expected fanfares entering to line the pathway, a servant hurried directly toward him. Whispers erupted from the waiting council, each speculating on the cause for the deviance in the grand entry of their future queen that they had been expecting. Avallac’h had to admit that along with his annoyance at this typical Áine like behavior, he was curious as well. The thought that perhaps she would abandon her duty, took precedence in the front of his thoughts.

The servant, Avallac’h vaguely recalled seeing her about the gardens wrung her hands as she dealt him a hasty bow.

“I apologize for the intrusion my lord… but I didn’t- you must come at once.”

A sharp stab of fear pierced Avallac’h in the chest. The woman’s wide eyes and hesitant voice hinted at ever more tragedy.

“Go on-.” He said quietly with a breathless voice.

“Selly my lord.”

“Selly.”

She cast a quick look about her, taking in the speculating looks and whispers before leaning close. “It would be easier to show you.”

Carefully keeping his expression stoic, Avallac’h nodded his assent. While he did not acknowledge the crowd forming behind him as he followed Selly from the throne room, he was not surprised that they were coming along.

He half expected for Selly to turn toward the gardens, to draw the entire council out to some scene of a Àine grieving and inconsolable, or abandoning them all together in a flurry of dresses being tossed into trunks.

Turning instead toward the grand entry to the palace did not offer comfort and only fueled suspicions that Áine was indeed going to abandon her birthright. After all, she had been quite vocal about having no wish to succeed her brother if he passed without issue.

Avallac’h was strangely… disappointed. For more than a handful of reasons too.

If the growing sound of speculative voices were and indication, he was not alone in his assumptions.

“What is the meaning of this Espane?” Eredin rose his voice above the others.

Avallac’h was saved any reply, if he had felt the other man had even deserved one at all as the main doors came into view. They were thrown open wide but crowded with servants, their attention solely focused on some fascinating scene in the sunshine just beyond.

A sound, a roar to be precise, rose the closer he approached until finally he placed it as the roar of a cheering crowd. At the back of the gathering of servants, Selly paused and sent him a firm nod before touching the older woman nearest her.

One by one, and then two by threes and fours, the servants pulled their attention away from whatever held them so and made a pathway from him to pass through.

 “I, Viceroy Ge’els Cean’nairí of Tir ná Lia, appointed to my duty by our beloved King Auberon Muircetach, am honored with a responsibility of the utmost importance. The sun set on our great king… but rises with a great queen.”

Avallac’h found no weeping princess riding off to her previous lovers palace to hide from her birth given responsibilities, but instead knelt a woman dressed in a long gown of pale rose, detailed in delicate gold beading that for some innate reason, Avallac’h found himself entranced with the pattern of.

Through the curtain of long pale hair, sun kissed skin peeked through in a familiar way.

After no more than seven rapid heartbeats, Avallac’h at last gained control of his senses enough to piece together just what Selly had sought him out for.

Before him, before well the entire kingdom it seemed, Áine knelt at the top of the palace’s grand stairs in a fine, yet not overly ostentatious garb. Ge’els stood before her, crown glittering in the sunlight, held aloft for the endless sea of faces below in grand witness as he spoke.

“The sun shines on this day, a day of greater import than any that have come before.” Ge’els lowered the crown before turning to face a still kneeling Áine.

The Viceroy’s gaze flickered over Avallac’h with a coldness that confirmed to Avallac’h that Ge’els believed Eredin’s accusations. The glance lasted but a moment before Ge’els dismissed him and only had eyes for Áine after that.

“Áine Orlaith Rhiannon Muircetach-” Áine tilted her head back as Ge’els settled the crown over her hair, and Avallac’h felt some foreign emotion twist deeply through his chest. “- _Queen_ Áine Orlaith Rhiannon Muircetach… rise. Everlasting, be our light, our fire, do you so swear?”

Áine slipped both of her hands into the Viceroy’s and rose to her feet in one gliding movement.

The crowd below and behind Avallac’h was silent and watchful, as was he when Áine’s clear voice came.

“I swear… not to rule with cruelty or injustice. To not covet pride and wealth over suffering and immorality. I am not an entity born to cast our world into my own envisioning, but one of many righteous souls who have need of a future ripe with harbor and promise. Yes Viceroy, I swear to be yours and their light… just as every man, woman, and child who call Tir ná Lia home will be my light… My fire.” Áine paused for a brief heartbeat before stepping past Ge’els. “People of Tir ná Lia, do you so swear?” She called out with a voice that rang with strength.

The crowd threw their hands into the air along with their cheers of approval. A sight that brought warring emotions of disgust and pride.

Pushing back the disgust it was with that unexpected awe and pride that Avallac’h swept his gaze over the crowd. He knew she had been beloved by the people as the eccentric princess, but he had not expected such acceptance as their regent quite so soon. Glancing over his shoulder, he however found the council exchanging uncomfortable glances mixed about with grinning servants. Acceptance with the common folk while alienating the upper ranks… not as ideal of a beginning as she likely assumed.

As for Eredin, his gaze never left the new queen’s back, and he remained speculative as ever. Turning back to Áine and the people she now ruled, Avallac’h clenched his jaw and tightened his hands into fists behind his back.

The mystery of Eredin’s intentions plagued Avallac’h without mercy, mixing with the torrent of a dozen other emotions and leaving him exhausted and ill. He was not closer to deciding his next course. Should he stay and weather the accusations and do what he could to turn Áine into a Queen, or protect the elder blood?

A sudden commotion at the front of the crowd caught Avallac’hs attention, and it was then that he noticed the lack of guard protecting the queen. Pushing aside his personal plight, Avallac’h turned to Eredin. “Our Queen is exposed, General. Where are your soldiers? The guards?”

Eredin dragged his cold gaze to Avallac’h, a small sneer curling his lip. After assessing him, Eredin stepped close and crossed his arms. “The charismatic Caranthir will be disappointed to have missed the Queen’s big moment. But the hunt begins and not even queens are kings will interfere.”

Avallac’h narrowed his eyes. “And what is the prey? Slaves are not needed, General.”

Eredin’s sneer curled into a knowing smirk before he turned away and made his way back into the palace.

Realization spread like wildfire through Avallac’h, but he felt ice flowing through his veins. It was in that moment that he knew he could not stay. But he had one last issue that he could see to before he left Tir ná Lia.

With quick strides, Avallac’h reached Ge’els side, careful to keep his gaze on the crowd. “She isn’t safe, exposed like this. We should finish this display promptly and move indoors.”

Ge’els eyes flashed him a hard look but Avallac’h knew he was not one to let ill feelings bar sensible actions. “I agree. Perhaps for our queen’s safety, you should take a journey to the dungeons.”

Several dozen fiery retorts burned the back of Avallac’h’s throat at the other mans unfounded accusations but he knew none of it, his pride included, truly mattered in that moment. So rather than snapping back in a hot headed if not childish reaction, he erased all emotion from his expression and turned on his heel.

The crowd in the doorway parted from his path with wary glances and whispers, all save the servant girl Selly and the only palace guard who looked to be on duty. The two exchanged worried glances that Avallac’h had no time nor wish to unpack.

Behind him, the voice of Ge’els urging the princess – no - the _queen_ back inside mixed with the joyous crowd.

* * *

 

For the briefest of moments, while her people cheered for the crown now resting high upon her brow, Áine believed that she could actually do this. Fill her brother’s seat and be the leader her people needed. It was a moment that quickly faded as she sat on the throne her brother had occupied just days prior, facing the nobles and council she had spent most of her life trading sharp worded barbs with.

Thinly veiled insults or flirts that while made in good nature and all parties involved knew were not serious, echoed about her. Every improper, impulsive behavior seemed to glint back at her from the many eyes staring up at her and it was will an internal huff of annoyance that perhaps Avallac’h might have been right.

She was not queen material. No in the eyes of these before her now anyways.

Where as to the common folk, she was the kind smile who was not afraid to sing with them around a fire. Among the high born she was a silly little princess who ought to have been married off a century ago and hidden away in a country palace.

And perhaps they were correct.

There was one pair of crystal colored eyes full of judgement pointedly missing from the current proceedings. She had expected he would have been at the front of the line so to speak in order to make his feelings about her disregard for tradition quite well known.

Everyone else save Ge’els had been full of complaints, veiled of course as hurt feelings.

“What are we to do about the feast? It was prepared hours ago and has surely spoiled.” Lord Something spoke up with a tsk in his voice and several agreeable nods in the finely robed crowd.

Áine fought the urge to slump back against the high back of the uncomfortable throne. “I have no desire to celebrate the placement of a crown upon my head as the result of the death of my brother. Nor have I an appetite for food that was not approved of in the first place. Serve what is edible to the staff and the rest to the local farms. Sure it will be good enough for the pigs.”

“But Your Ma-” the impertinent little lord began but cut off when Áine stood and began down the stairs.

“I have redecorating to do. Viceroy, please see that everyone here has the traditional festivities they were so looking forward to. That is if they do not mind waiting for the servants to prepare yet another unwanted feast. And pay the servants three times their normal wages for the trouble.”

“Of course, my queen.” Ge’els answered clearly and with a deep bow as she passed.

Keeping her gaze forward and her chin lifted, Áine glided from the throne room, feeling as if she couldn’t breathe.

Every thought screamed in her head to run away to the only place she was safe. Safe from judgement and disappointment and grief. But even that was taken from her. There was not one place within the palace where memories nor the weight of duty could not find her now.

It was little wonder that she found herself standing before the grand desk within what had - and always would be - Auberon’s study. She understood why he could always be found there for how could one enjoy apartments made for a ruler but had only been gained through devastating loss?

Áine ran a finger along the edge of the desk, the papers and quills all just so. The seal of her brother awaiting its next press into hot wax. The roses gathered in a small vase, the petals turning brown around the edges.

Feeling a chill race down her arms, Áine plucked the soft robe hanging from a peg and slipped it on. She recognized it as one she had gifted Auberon ages ago, and feeling its oversized cloth warming her, the familiar scent of ocean surrounding her, brought the first comfort she had truly felt since Ge’els spoke those shattering words.

Drawn by some unknown force, she approached one of the tall windows, pulled the robe right around her, and just watched the scene outside. It was a scene that Auberon spent hours gazing at, and she understood why.

Where she was of the earth, the flowers and plants… he was of the sea.

And from this vantage, there was an excellent view of the waterfalls and rivers, flowing out to the western sea. White sails dotted the glittering waves, gulls swooped low and occasionally dived and resurfaced with their catch.

The sun was setting, adding a wave of gold to the deep blue.

She had known that Auberon had a fondness for sailing, a far off childhood memory of the ocean breeze caressing her cheeks while he spun the helm. Once their father passed to join their mother, he stopped sailing.

Just as with his passing, she would no longer tend to the garden.

“Fitting indeed.” She murmured.

“What is fitting?”

The sound of Avallac’hs voice coming from behind her, jolted Áine into spinning around with a gasp. After a moment to settle her nerves and pull her gaze from his, Áine leaned her hip against the edge of the desk. She still remembered the feel of his hands and the decision she had made the morning of - she shook her head lightly. He was the number one suspect for the murder of her brother. Thinking of such things was a great disservice to Auberon and left her feeling ill.

“The universe has a certain pattern it seems to follow, and kings and queens are not saved from such workings.”

Avallac’h nodded with an amicable look before beginning to sort through his desk. “There are few whom can escape the influence of destiny.”

“You however escaped the delightful display of high nobles cheated out of their grand display of wealth and power. You would never know that we are a people mourning.”

“They are eager to forget.” He stuffed several scrolls into a brown leather satchel slung across his chest.

Áine tilted her head curiously. “I will not let them forget. What are you doing?”

Avallac’hs hands stilled a moment before continuing to push papers around the desk or into the satchel. “Something has come up.”

With a roll of her eyes, Áine couldn’t resist the natural instinct to tease him. “Do they teach the art of vagueness in sage school or were you simply born that way?”

The flinty glare he shot her was the desired reaction and for the first time in days, a small smile curled the corners of her lips. Oh how easy it was to forget that she should be wary of him. However, her smile quickly faded when he returned to his shuffling and stuffing.

Áine liked to think that she had a modicum of intelligence if not good sense of observation. Of putting pieces together and finding the answer. And that is just what she did, with his continued silence being the final piece needed.

Cold steel ran through her blood and pooled in her chest as she forced her voice to stay level.

“You’re leaving.” She said simply.

“I am.” Came the equally simple reply.

Any effort to stay calm was destroyed by those two words and Áine straightened from the desk as she made a fist in the sleeve of his robe and pulled him into turning to face her. “You would admit your guilt so freely and in my presence?”

With a stony expression, Avallac’h pulled his sleeve from her grasp. “The presence of a spoiled princess now turned a spoiled queen? You make accusations without evidence and trial.”

The steel in his voice, she had not heard for quite some time, and it was then that she realized she had lost him without ever really having him. All fanciful wishes and plans were up in flames.

“It would seem then, that the wisest course for one so knowledgeable of what it takes to be a good queen, that fleeing would be the opposite of a good decision.”

“I can hardly do my job steering you from making ill thought out choices that effect our entire people from the damp comforts of a dungeon. But that is the least of my worries.”

Áine set her hands on her hips, quite certain that she looked more childish than ever in Auberon’s oversized robe. With a voice that began quiet but quickly lifted into a shout, she let slip some of her true feelings. “What could possibly be more important than proving your innocence so that you may stay by my side so that I don’t destroy everything that my family has devoted their lives to?”

Her impassioned words softened some of the edge to his glare, but did nothing else to sway him. “What could possibly be bigger than your worrying incompetence as a queen?” Avallac’h asked quietly but did not wait for an answer.

His continued jab at her worth as a queen continued to sting but her mind was still quick. “You’re going after Ciri. My brother’s most trusted abandons his heir in her hour of need. All to hunt down the child that you wish had been yours.”

With a swiftness Áine had not expected, Avallac’h wrapped his hands around her upper arms and spun her till her back pressed into the wall beside his desk. Her heart raced as she felt the head of his fingers through the cloth of the robe and his fury filled eyes glared down into hers.

Despite the insults and suspicions and anger, damn him for still stealing her breath and wanting things that until just moments ago, she had believed mutually felt and even in the realm of possible. Damn him for the heat that surrounded her, reminding her of the night around the fire, for making her want him despite him abandoning her to chase after her niece.

“As my king’s once most trusted, I leave you with one last advisement before I voluntarily take leave of my post else I am trussed up to the dungeon. Do not take your eyes from Eredin.”

Áine hadn’t the slightest idea why he cared about Eredin, but her fear conflicted with her pride in her ability to read her people, stayed her from asking for clarification. Instead she tilted her chin up, hating as much as she loved the quick flicker of his hate filled gaze down to her lips before boring back into hers. “That is _your_ responsibility Sage.”

As if she were made of fire, Avallac’hs hands dropped from her arms and he stepped back. He took the heat with him but Áine found it no easier to breathe.

With one last long glare, Avallac’h strode out the door. And though Áine knew she could call for the guards to stop him before he reached the doors, she did not. She let him go. And it was within a heartbeat later that Áine left the study as well, a place where for the smallest of moments, she had felt safe in the firestorm that had become her life, but where he turned right, she turned left.

He thought her spoiled and incompetent. He knew _nothing_ of what she had already sacrificed. And he knew _nothing_ of what she was willing to do for her people. And now more than ever, they needed stability and hope. And by letting go of him, she could now do the one thing she finally admit that she ought to have done a century ago.

 

* * *

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for the wonderful comments and welcome back. This started out as just for me and LisaFlowers story but its warped into because of you awesome guys. <3<3<3

* * *

 

 

The heavy door opened silently, allowing Áine entry to a room that she had not expected but now that she was there, she realized that it was the most obvious choice. Familiar shelves, full but tidy with various beakers, flasks, scales as well as bottles of differently colored alchemical agents- some even glowing with magical properties.

She knew that if she looked to the right, she would find an ordinary looking bed, a high back chair next to the fire, and a robe hanging from a peg. Instead she looked to the left, toward a desk beneath tall windows. Sunlight filtering through, aiding the candles in giving light so the man hunched over the desk could work.

Áine’s shoulders softened in a silent sigh. She had… things she wanted to tell the impossible man scribbling away, her presence yet to be realized. One of them being that she’d hoped to see a bit of where he was- and had he reunited with Ciri.

But- he could not know that she was real… or that she was actually invading his privacy on purpose by taking a stroll through his dream like the nosey busy body that she was.

As much as she worried and feared and felt the curse of actually _caring_ , Áine was still hurt and angry about their parting. The words said, the suspicion, the urge to beg him not to go because- Áine bared her teeth at the back of Avallac’h.

Because she fucking cared.

And wanted and had been so ready and certain and- and full of _hope_ that he felt the same way.

But then everything changed from one steady heartbeat full of everything good to one shattering heartbeat left hemorrhaging ceaselessly.

Did she believe his innocence? She wanted to. Did she believe that she needed him more than her niece? Selfishly so. But he had gone with an abruptness that most believed affirmed his guilt, and as he’d advised, she had her eye indeed on Eredin, and the wheels spinning were of destiny and she could not stop them now.

But maybe-

Perhaps after it was all done, the world saved, her brothers murderer brought to justice, then maybe- if his claim to innocence proves accurate- then perhaps friends. As he had once been to Auberon.

Realizing just how naive such a notion was- not with how she felt and after what she’d just done- it would not be so. A huff escaped her lips, catching the sage’s attention swiftly, his eyes narrowing over his shoulder.

Thinking quickly, after all if he knew what she could do, he could take precautions to keep her out- and that was just something she could not allow with so much hanging in the balance, Áine thought up a quick theatric. His worst nightmare, if she wanted to escape this quickly.

“Avallac’h! I’d hoped to find you here!” She called out gaily, immensely pleased with herself for keeping her tone steady and pleasant.

Whether he knew he was dreaming, or just his natural reaction to her presence, she could not tell, but he stood from his seat with a quick bow. “How may I serve?”

“Hmm…” Sweeping her gaze nonchalantly around the room, Áine acted out being a bit coy as she looked for what she could possibly need from a laboratory. She trailed her finger over a line of books until a title caught her eye. Silver etched in leather read _Reproduction- Selective Breeding_.

The idea it gave her was perfect fuel and would quickly give her an escape.

With a bright smile, Áine glided toward him. “I’m in need of a potion.”

“A potion.” He answered slowly, gaze steady on her.

For an unknown reason, an odd nervousness swept over her and she found she no longer wanted to go through with what she had set in motion. But she quickly decided that it had to be done, damn his thoughts on her when he awoke- if he remembered it at all. Knowing her luck however, it was much more likely that he would remember this dream vividly but hopefully with her secret intact.

“Yes a potion. A very-“ She slipped a seductive smirk across her lips. “-particular potion. You see, it’s been some time since I’ve had need of this… potion.”

A delightfully innocent frown of confusion had him tilting his head. “Are you ill?”

“Not at all.”

“Seeking enhancements for magic?”

Wishing she could take a deep breath, Áine decided to rush through and get it over with. “No, I wish to go forward with taking Caranthir as my lover but would not wish there to be result of our affair.”

Indeed, if the horror that flashed across his face were any indication, she’d had the desired effect and as she’d hoped, she was flung into wakefulness.

But she was not rested.

All she’d wanted, was to see what wondrous land he’d found himself in. Ciri’s dreams were not accessible- possibly a natural defense with her bloodline, and she required some sort of emotional connection with whom she visited. But rather than seeing visions of what life was like outside Tir Na Lia, Avallac’h was determined to even work during his dreams, leaving her with nothing more than the acknowledgement that she missed him.

Áine curled up on her side, whispering about how foolish she was and that he likely did not deserve to be missed. Especially after abandoning her.

Closing her eyes, shutting out the room that had been built for a queen and then passed down to heirs for centuries, Áine hoped her nightmare haunted Avallac’h for many, _many_ nights yet.

* * *

 

Gasping deeply, Avallac’h sat up with a wrench. It took a handful of deep breaths to remind himself of his location. On the floor of a hovel that was barely standing at the edge of a massive city filled with humans and little else, with technological advances that relied purely on science and imagination rather than magic.

“Bad dream?” Ciri asked from her station of watch, back against the wall from across him.

Avallac’h frowned, recalling the barely visible images of his dream. Working over a device from the world they were currently seeking refuge on, which allowed one to watch a continuing movement of images which resulted in a story being viewed.

He’d wanted to know- to understand just what made it work and was certain he was close to his goal- but then the dream had changed and there was Áine, breathtaking and sweeping in as if she visited the laboratory every day.

And deep within, Avallac’h realized he’d been _glad_ to see her. His parting words to her echoed through his mind constantly but he’d needed a clean break, though it felt anything other than that. She was his queen and he’d treated her- spoke to her- as if she were a common beggar.

Scrubbing his hands over his face a moment, he laid back down with a sigh.

His dream, a queen he’d abandoned for more reasons than to simply chase after her niece approaching him for contraceptives for her planned affair with his foster son… he would not be finding sleep again with that image fighting its way into his mind.

“A nightmare.”

* * *

 

A week into her reign as queen and Áine was watching the last slighted lady depart from the throne room, justice served as fairly as she could manage. The lady would be keeping everything she had brought into the union with her unfaithful lord, with a bit of his for her pain and suffering.

But the ladies stony and emotionless face stayed in Áine’s mind’s eye.

“Ge’els,” she murmured, watching the doors close behind the woman, “why do you think people who pledge to be faithful, then do something so despicable as taking a mistress?”

Humming thoughtfully, Ge’els held a handout to her and once she accepted and stood beside him, turned to look at her as she quickly straightened her crown. “They are weak. Their needs overcome their honor.”

Áine nodded in agreement. “It is one thing to have an understanding that there is no deep-set love but to have pledge so wholeheartedly to one person with promises that they were the one and only for all eternity…”

“Such behavior is expected of humans. We however are above depravity. At least that is how we like to see ourselves.”

With a small chuckle, Áine pulled lightly on his arm indicating that it was time to move on. “We do have a superiority complex do we not?”

“I do say, we have earned it in many ways.” He glanced down at her as they walked through the smaller doorway behind the throne. “But perhaps not our honor in regard to monogamy. In that we are much alike humans, as much as it pains me to say.”

A wave of sadness settled over Áine’s shoulders like a heavy blanket. “It makes you question the validity of the legends of soulmates novelists like to fill our heads with.”

Ge’els pulled her to a gentle stop outside the doors to her next awaiting appointment. “You and I my dear are romantics. It’s in our blood to believe in such things as soulmates and one’s true love.”

His words meant well but they did not lift her heart. “What a curse we have been burdened with. It makes-“ she waved a hand toward the door, “that much more difficult.”

With a smile full of sorrow, Ge’els pat the hand she had rested on his arm. “I do not find loving you a burden.”

It was a spike through her heart to hear such words for she could not return them. But Ge’els knew her well and did not wait for her to utter words which would dishonor them both though she could see a twinge of wounded pride in his golden eyes.

It made this next appointment all the more dreadful, she found as he at last opened the door for her to sweep through. Inside were all the esteemed lords and ladies of the council, except for the renegade Avallac’h.

It was a room of modest size filled with paintings depicting legendary figures from their history, a grand table lined with ornate, high back chairs. Each had a silver chalice, and as servants were not permitted in the room when council was in session, pitchers of wine sat ready to be poured by their own hand.

She had no wish to sit in a room where she had to keep her back straight lest her crown slip, informing them of her decisions while the feigned delight. But she had requested the meeting and so she supposed she had to make an appearance and get on with it. And as she took in the surprisingly kind smiles of the faces as everyone stood from their seats, Áine considered that perhaps her unkind view of them was not fair.

Afterall she had not truly had to work with any of them and they had each been appointed by her brother, and his opinion mattered more to her than any other. Despite the bit of tension, she had caused with her display of tossing aside a traditional coronation, everyone now seemed in good spirits. Even Eredin had a bit of a spring to his step as he met her and Ge’els in the center of the room.

“Your Majesty.” He said as he plucked her hand from Ge’els arm and bowed over it, his unglamored face sparkling with adoration.

“Eredin.” She greeted with a small smile before moving to her seat at the head of the long table. Eredin beat Ge’els to the honor of pulling it out for her. “My, how charming you are today.” She sat with an arched look over her shoulder at him, watching as he returned to his own seat.

“It is a good day, and I live to serve my beautiful queen.”

Several of the others in attendance tittered a laugh or two but Áine sent Ge’els a look silently asking if the general had indeed lost his mind. After merely shrugging from his place to her right, he turned his attention to Eredin. “And what brings on such a good day?”

“It is about the child.”

Áine barely remembered that turning her head as fast as instinct urged, would have her crown flying off, managed to look toward Eredin slowly, giving him her full attention. “You’ve found her?”

“As you know, I sent scouting ships to her home world, sweeping for sign of her.” Eredin steepled his fingers against his chest as he leaned back against the back of his highback.

Áine waited pensively for him to continue and nearly found her snapping at him to skip the dramatics. But that was what princess Áine would have done and the words echoing through her mind that queens did not snap at their subjects for being dramatic sounded suspiciously like Avallac’h.

“She might have been there but has alluded us and left before the scouts could close in on her.” Eredin finished at last.

Disappointment mixed with relief at the knowledge that her niece remained free. “I see.” She replied, giving nothing away to her true thoughts.

“However, we are fortunate to have the talents of Caranthir for use.”

“Go on.” Áine urged on with a thinly calm voice, growing weary of Eredin and was quite ready to make sharp worded demands.

“Caranthir is… sensitive, it seems, to the power of the elder blood. He has sensed her using her power, and with his ability to navigate between the worlds…”

“Caranthir is able to track her.” Ge’els finished.

Eredin’s grin was one of a man ready to slay worlds for his conquest. “Report for duty on the morrow viceroy, we depart at daybreak.”

And just like that, the moment- the reason for the calling of this session was upon them, and she shared a quick glance at Ge’els. How he’d managed to not shift uncomfortably at this entire situation, Áine couldn’t know, but she did take comfort in the assuredness he displayed.

It made her ever more certain in her decision.

“That will not be possible.” Áine said, keeping her voice steady as she met the surprised look across Eredin’s face.

“Forgive me… but for a voyage of such importance, I need my best-“

Looking away from him, Áine swept her gaze to each watching the exchange with great interest. “The Viceroy cannot be a part of your regiment of Riders. He is to be Prince Consort.”

There was the expected round of silence before someone down the table lifted their chalice. “To a most honorable union!”

Áine remained stiff as most everyone lifted their own in turn. Her chest felt frozen as she voiced the words she had been agonizing over for the past week. Of the pain of _that_ day resurfacing, of turning her back on Avallac’h as he’d turned his on her and making a decision that was meant to bring solidarity to her world.

She did not need a marriage to rule, but a marriage if not for love than with trust, would offer its own level of protection. Others could not attempt to seduce and manipulate if she were wed. They could not question whether she had Tir ná Lia’s best interest in mind, as Ge’els was highly respected and a fair leader. All things she had told him when she had asked him to wed her.

Ge’els had cupped her cheek and told her he loved her more than anyone, but he then had voiced objections immediately after.

_“I know we learned long ago that what we shared was not something of legends. Rather than wanting you to press me against a wall and kissing me into toe curling submission when we fought, I wanted to just bury the unpleasantness and go back to pretending your indifference when I was vexed at you didn’t hurt me. But I’m never going to have that, and I know how selfish it is of me to steal your own chance at having such a grand love, but Ge’els, there is none I trust more than you. Not even close.”_

_Looking deeply into her eyes, Ge’els whispered one question, one that nearly had her changing her mind, which is exactly why he asked it._

_“And what about him?”_

_Unwanted tears flooded her eyes, the hurt was still so raw within her._

_“Guilty or not, he left before anything could begin.”_

_After one long moment of Ge’els searching her eyes for whatever it he was looking for, he gave a single nod._

_“Yes, if you will still have me after I foolishly told you no.”_

Every thought racing through her mind since then had been at war with other thoughts. This was not what she wanted; one would shout. But it was what was right, came the voice of reason. That damn voice that always sounded like _him._ In the end she had to reason that Auberon would approve. It’s likely what he would have done if he hadn’t been broken in so many ways at such a youthful age.

“I had hopped to have had the honor to prove myself worthy of taking such a place at your side.” Came a single, cold voice through the others.

As the raising of chalices and words of honor slowed, Áine looked toward the direction of the comment and realized that Eredin had not partaken in the toasting. Rather than politely pleased, he had the look of a man enraged. His hands made two fists on the end of his arm rests, and a muscle ticked violently in his jaw.

Several seats creaked as their occupants shifted, possibly because the atmosphere had suddenly gotten quite uncomfortable or more likely, they wanted a better view at the delicious excitement unfolding before them.

Áine knew Eredin’s charm and gallantry was often a façade but he’d never looked at her with such… _violence_ before. As if she had just taken his world and turned it upside down and she knew for certain why Avallac’h had warned her against him.

She would need to speak with Ge’els about her suspicions.

“Never fear Lord General, there are many ways you may serve Tir ná Lia and myself. But you have a position open it seems.” Áine turned her voice light as a plan rapidly took root within her. “And with your hunt of my niece pressingly important, may I suggest a way to ensure it is filled quickly?”

Eredin did not soften toward her and if anything, only grew colder. “Forgive me queen, but as an experienced commander-“

“Oh, I do not mean for me to hand pick your next lieutenant, but a tournament. Something to bring the people together, unite them as their finest battle it out until the last man- or woman- standing earns a place on your ship.”

There was a murmur of excitement from the lords and ladies and a soft nudge to her ankle from Ge’els, silently asking what madness she was planning. As for Eredin, he could not come up with any reasonable objections and though his fist never relaxed, he summoned up a smile that bared his teeth.

“While I may merely be a General, you are the true commander of the riders. How you wish to fill the ranks, is up to you.”

Áine rolled her eyes and if Avallac’h where there, he would surely have sent her a pointed look over her antic. “Thank you for your permission. Lords and Ladies of the council make the proper announcements. We shall host a tournament in two days’ time in which the finest warriors are welcome to earn their place among the finest Riders.” She dismissed them with a wave, and unsurprisingly, Eredin was the first out the door.

Watching as the last lord disappeared through the door, she relaxed back against her highback with a sign.

“What, my love, did you just do?” Ge’els asked with quiet amazement coloring his voice.

“How about we go for a stroll to see how Enver is doing.” Áine answered, her gaze locked on the door as if she could still see Eredin’s disappearing back. “We have much to discuss.”

* * *

 

_The Journal of Crevan Espane aep Caomhan Macha_

_Date- unknown_

_Location- unknown_

_The land Cirilla and I have stumbled upon is hauntingly beautiful but entirely barren. I have chosen a cave overlooking a valley where once a great river must have flowed. We cannot stay hidden here for long for the water, and thus all life, have disappeared._

_Possibly in result of the two suns fighting for dominance in the sky. We traveled for an unmeasurable amount of time in the search of supplies but have at last acknowledge that it is hopeless here and we must move on._

_We need time to rest, restock, and I must search for the patience it takes to train Cirilla. Stubbornness and impatience must be strong within the  Muircetach bloodline for she reminds me more and more of her distant aunt._

_I am thankful to the fates that I was not tasked with guiding ~~Àine~~ her majesty in- well anything other than my failed attempt at manners and propriety. But at least Cirilla pretends to listen. ~~Ái-~~ her majesty didn’t even bother with such courtesy._

_But I do her a great dishonor writing such words. She has much to commend her in the gaping hole where proper behavior should have been. Kind and thoughtful, though I cannot say those traits will aid her in her role as regent. She will have to use her wit and cutting honesty I believe._

_I feel… tormented._

_Guilt at war with certainty._

_A sense that I left just at the beginning of… something I cannot quite put into words._

_And to leave as I did, harsh words leaving my lips ~~, I could not place the look in her eye and dwelling on it-~~ -with my innocence in the balance, as well as Áine’s safety in unknown hands. _

_Eredin is dangerous and I can only hope that she will take my warning to heart. And that the Viceroy will look beyond his distrust of me and see the general for the murder and ambitious usurper he truly is._

_I may never be able to return, but if Cirilla is not the prophesized flame which will overcome the winter, it will matter not. Tir ná Lia will be lost before any of Eredin’s machinations come to fruition._

_I lie._

_If it comes to the end of Tir ná Lia, I will indeed return. But whether to die with my home, or to save who can be saved, and even then, if she would abandon those who could not be saved… I will not know until the time is upon me._

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never fear, this is NOT a triangle story


	14. What the Poets Say

* * *

 

Áine was a romantic fool.

She knew that, painful as the knowledge was, she had to admit to it. After all she had been through, all the decisions she’d had to make, the plans set in motion… she found herself _here_. Again.

Standing before an ancient wooden door with cast iron bandings and rusty hinges.

Panic rose up from her chest and lodged in her throat. To calm herself, Áine pressed her thumbs into her temples, her fingers burrowing into her hair under the weight of her crown. Despising the change in her destiny it represented, the weight disappeared with a quick thought.

Áine knew what this meant. Why she couldn’t stay away.

Despite the doubt and anger, she ached with a broken heart. For a love that never truly came into existence… at least not until it was too late. But it did. When it had happened, she could never pin it on any one moment. But at last she recognized this anguish for what it truly was.

She was being torn apart and none could ever know. The consequences… well the likes of Eredin would have her head, she was sure.

For loving the man most suspected in murdering the king would surely scream of her own guilt. And Guilt was already something she felt every moment of the day. And now it was drowning her in the night as well.

A feeling this miserable… it had to be love. This is precisely how the poets described it… but they had always written as if it were worth it.

She didn’t see how.

No - she was going to put a stop to this once and for all. No more using her curiosity as an excuse… she was going to go in there and say her goodbye. Once and for all. Even if he didn’t understand what was happening, or that that was what she was doing…

She had already forgiven him for the cruel words, forgiven herself for her lingering doubt. They were all warranted in their own way. She was sure of it.

So… yes, this was the decisive step to moving on. To letting go and becoming the Queen her brother would want her to be. The Queen her people needed. After this, she would no longer find herself outside this door searching for excuses to invade dreams which were not hers.

Taking a steadying breath, Áine dropped her hands to smooth down the fabric of her dress. Adopting a carefree smile, she stepped through the door.

With every step, her heart beat a skip faster.

Her gaze searched out the end of the bookcase she would need to turn at.

Unknowingly - she stepped faster, trailing her fingers along the spines of ancient books.

The sound of a quill scratching on parchment filled the silence.

Words tumbled through her mind, words that meant more than she even knew how to process.

Words she could never speak, not even in dreams.

The poets were wrong. This miserable feeling- this horrible, suffocating, and exhausting feeling of unrequited hope was most certainly _not_ worth it.

Áine was going to write a thousand poems describing just how wrong they were- under a pseudo of course.

She bit her lip and turned past the bookshelf -

Her hands twisted together and pressed into her waist.

Sunlight filtered in, touching everything in its path with a sleepy golden haze that made her think of evenings in Autumn. Smoke rose slowly in a gentle spiral from surrounding candles while dozens of journals and scrolls covered the spaces between them.

Quietly, and much slower than before, Áine walked forward. The lone figure of Avallac’h seated at in his usual spot, hunched close to the desk as his hand scribbled furiously. Whatever he was working on, it was all consuming and he was giving every bit of himself to it. His gaze was hidden by the downturn of his head, but she knew what it would look like.

Fierce and endlessly assured.

And the color of his eyes… she knew what they looked like when the sunlight shone in them. Like glittering jewels, brighter than any in existence.

She waited for him to sense her, and she did not have to wait long.

Her heart skipped when the quill ceased its scratching, and he turned his head to find her standing there. There was surprise, and warmth, and exasperation, and a good amount of dare it be - vulnerability. But they were all masked a second later behind an expression she was most familiar with. With his gaze now guarded and icy, Avallac’h slowly sat straight before standing.

Damn them but the poets were right.

For that breath of a moment, before all their history and social roles and destiny affecting decisions came into the moment, every miserable tormented second of being in love… would be worth it.

She would never know how he felt, not truly, but there was a spec of fondness for her, she was certain of it. But that was not why she was here.

She had to let this go, let him go. To stop seeking him out across galaxies and return to her own dreams.

“You seem quite busy.” Áine began lamely. “What is it you’re working on instead of helping my brother at court today?”

A bit of confusion quirked his brows. “Court? The hour surely is excessively late for that.”

Áine waved a hand with a shake of her head. “A group of landowners arrived earlier with reports that their fields are not producing what was expected.” It wasn’t a lie… she’d spent the entire day listening to farmers give panicked accounts of how little was growing this spring. Though the harvest was still months away, the earlier signs of crop failure were more than prominent.

With a firm, business like nod, Avallac’h began to walk away.

“There’s no sense in going now… they’ve already concluded.” Áine called after him, before picking up one of his journals and read _‘-one sun but two- perhaps even three moons. Cirilla suggested naming them. Beautiful though they are, they are not ours to bestow-’_ before it was quickly taken from her hand.

“What are you doing?” Avallac’h snapped the journal closed and glared down at her.

Áine sighed with exaggerated impatience and moved to trap him between the desk and her. “Investigating as to what was so important to keep you from your duties. It’s quite unlike you.” Áine narrowed her gaze. “What are you up to, Sage?”

She must have made a decent point for Avallac’h dropped her snooping and did a clumsy attempt to change the subject.

“Last time you were here, you were here for a particular potion.”

Áine took an irresistible step closer, charmed by the subject and curious about the flash in his eyes which accompanied it. “Was I? I don’t recall such a request. What was the potion I asked for?” She was close enough to feel his breath brush against her cheeks, and the sensation was like fire within her veins.

“I do not recall. Perhaps something for headaches.” He replied evasively, watching her cautiously, as if he were about to leap out of her path if she were to spring herself at him without warning.

Her gaze traced their way from his eyes and down to linger upon his lips. Every good intention she’d had when she undertook this mission was quickly flinging their selves out the window with every moment, she spent near him. Her fingers itched to reach forward and curl into the red sash belted around his waist - and to take control.

Instead of saying goodbye, she wanted to flirt. To make him see her as a man sees a woman he desires above all others.

He’d looked at her like that before, on many occasions.

But not since -

“What are you thinking?” Avallac’h asked, his voice a bit huskier than before.

Áine’s gaze snapped up to his, two diverging paths before her. Tell him what he wanted to hear, in this dream world of his. Something that would make him think her silly and exaggerated but would allow him to dismiss her as he always did. Or the truth. Or a spec of it at least.

Blast it all… if she was going to say goodbye, she was going to do it in _her_ own way. No tears and kerchief waving as he faded into the sunset. No, she had an appetite and it was never going to be satiated, not in this realm nor the waking one. So, she was going to say farewell to all these feelings as best she could.

And with some honesty for once.

“I’m thinking about…” Áine began slowly lifting her hands toward him, giving them reign to do as they wished. “Wrapping my fingers around your sash-” her heart leapt at the intake of his breath when her fingers did just that – “holding you still as I-” she cut herself off as she leaned up into him and pressed her lips to his in one assured movement. They were softer than she’d expected, and she wanted nothing more than to take her time exploring them… but she was painfully aware of just how stiff and unmoving he was. Her grip on his sash tightened as the desperate pleas in the forefront of her mind begged for him to give in, to not leave her alone in her feelings, if only for this one moment.

Áine silently promised to Power and Destiny and Fate, that she would let him go, if just he wouldn’t pull away from her in this one moment.

But Avallac’h remained silent and firm.

With her eyes shut tightly against the pain welling deep within her chest, she parted her lips against his and ran the tip of her tongue along his upper lip, before accepting defeat and lowering her brow to rest on his chest.

She ought to apologize, but the words were lodged in her throat. She had been wrong. About so much. And now she had likely given herself away and was even mildly surprised that he had not awoken from the surprise she had launched at him.

So deep were her thoughts on how to rectify this disaster of a situation, she hardly felt the warm hand cupping her chin, nor the one threading into the hair at the nape of her neck. Her name whispered with the barest of a breath coming from his lips. Her head was urged into tipping back just as those soft - so unexpectedly soft - lips from before met hers with an urgency she recognized instantly.

Relief melted every bone in her body just as the taste and feel of him elicited an overwhelmed moan deep from within her. There was nothing about this she would change… the press of his fingers into her skin and hair, the solid way his frame took in the weight of her leaning into him, the surprising taste of chocolate and the not so surprising hint of coffee.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she acknowledged that he was a good kisser, stars was he good. She expected a man who spent centuries down in a dusty laboratory scribbling in books to be a fumbling mess. But this was no fumbling mess. Nor was it the practiced ways of the infinitely experienced Ge’els.

No… this was something different.

She knew instantly she wanted more. Wanted him to twist them around and lay her across his desk after sweeping an arm across it, sending all his work tumbling to the floor with a reckless abandon. Wanted to continue that first dream she had happened upon so long ago now to its full climax. She wanted to be taken and to take him in turn, on every surface in the room until there was nowhere, he could work without the image of her telling him how he made her feel being the first thought to come to mind.

But Áine couldn’t have that. She would only have this moment, and then she would lock herself out of his dreams once and for all.

Before she lost control of her weak resolve and intentions, she pulled away, her eyes fluttering open to meet his unfathomable ones. She forced herself to smile flirtatiously and release him fully as she stepped back.

“Now that is one way to cure a headache. But not to worry…I won’t tell if you won’t.”  Avallac’h didn’t reply, and she hadn’t expected him to. Her smile dropped a moment as she traced her gaze over his features, committing them to memory. “Goodbye Avallac’h.”

Again, he didn’t reply, and Áine left it at that. She turned, and with her heart breaking more with every moment, she left.

* * *

 

“The crowd is eager for the diversion. This was a wise decision.” Ge’els said as he stood at Áine’s side. She watched the people eagerly cheering and placing bets as they awaited the first round of warriors to make it to the ring.

“They do seem… joyful. I hope you do not mind the rabid frenzy I have stirred up over your place among the riders.” Áine tilted a glance in his direction.

“I trust in you. I always have.”

It was not a direct answer but Áine was adept in listening for the true answer behind Ge’els words. Perhaps she ought to feel a twinge of guilt, but she could not allow herself to. “I am right about this my dear.” A movement caught her attention and she watched as Eredin, in full uniform, approached. There was an icy storm brewing in his gaze as he watched her as well. “I have to be.” She said more for herself than for Ge’els.

Áine was only mildly startled by the appearance of Caranthir and others she knew to be among Eredin’s top soldiers. Like the general, each wore their armor. Alloys twisted into plates of skeleton, flashes of blood red cloth, black leather, and lethal weapons.

For a moment she almost forgot her place as the urge to send a charming smile to Caranthir welled inside her. However, she remembered herself before she could move to do anything so foolish. She was treated to an unsmiling and overwhelmingly grim look from him - a look she understood all too well.

Pressing her nails into her palm, Áine locked away the need to comfort someone who shared in her loss of someone cared for, someone who had even greater justification to it than she did. Instead of nodding that it would be alright, Áine gestured for Eredin to join her and Ge’els as they waited for the announcements to begin.

“Extraordinary weather for the clash of Tir ná Lia’s mightiest, do you not agree Eredin?” Áine said with a pleasant tone. And she did not exaggerate. The weather was all blue skies and gentle breezes. A small voice in the back of her mind whispered that her more tropical plants in the garden would not appreciate the coolness of the breeze, but she pushed it aside. The garden was no longer her priority.

“If I wanted a true measurement of skill, I would have them battle while it stormed.”

Áine tsked with a shake of her head. “That would drive those watching indoors and dampen their moral in regards to the fearsome Red Riders.”

“Good.” Eredin muttered, crossing his arms high across his chest. “Then I could have already had this business done and back to things of greater import.”

Áine’s heart skipped at the implication. “Have you made progress?”

Eredin sent her a sideways glance and for a moment she thought he meant to keep the answer from her. “No. I thought for certain the child would return to her adoptive father. But wherever she and the traitor are, it is not in that realm and Caranthir has not sensed her use of the elder blood… she is missing.” He held her gaze for a long moment before his scowl deepened and his hand wrapped around the hilt of his sword.

“What is it, Eredin? I have known you my entire life and I know when you have something to say.”

“It does not matter. Let us begin this.”

Áine’s irritation over his abrupt dismissal of her and his subsequent taking charge of the tournament was short lived. Let him have the glory of the moment… let the crowd cheer for their hero, for that was not the reason she had pushed the event forward. Done all she had to ensure the game was played in the manner she needed.

So yes, after a silencing look to Ge’els when Eredin began his speech about glory and greatness with his voice amplified for all to hear, Áine kept her chin lifted proudly. All that mattered to her was the woman with gleaming red hair, dual swords, and a no-nonsense stride making her way out to the arena.

* * *

_Th_ _e Journal of Crevan Espane aep Caomhan Macha_

_Date- unknown_

_Location- unknown_

_The White Frost… I have seen it with my own eyes, fathomless white consuming all life. Felt it seep through my barriers of magic and then the wool and furs_ _until it burned my skin. Fire can hold it back, but never long enough to matter._

_The world I find myself on has not been entirely lost - but it is reaching critical levels of damage. And I have found the source. Not the origin – no - but the source of it on the planet Cirilla and I have journeyed to._

_It is a chain reaction I have determined._

_I sit before a portal, much like the one that we journeyed through to lead us here, and the one before that and so on. But this portal is an icy storm in which the White Frost slips through unchallenged. Soon, the Frost will have made its way to the portal which led us here and will begin its onslaught on that world - along with any world connected through a separate portal._

_The change is gradual. Winters are slightly harsher and longer than the one before, weather patterns thrown off course but nothing which would suggest prophetic decline. But as the Frost consumed more of the planets connected, the process will accelerate._

_Tir ná Lia has only just begun to feel the effects of the first stages, but we are a people with intimate knowledge of the Frost, or rather we like to believe we do so. I however am certain that-_

“Are you quite done scribbling notes, or can we get out of here yet?” The irritated voice of Ciri gave Avallac’h pause in his writing. “It’s cold. Unbearably so.”

“No, I have not finished. But… I see your point.” He said watching flurries of snow float through the portal. With his thoughts unfinished on paper, Avallac’h continued them aloud as he packed up his supplies. “We need to test your ability on closing these portals.”

“And then what?”

“Then we trace the path of the White Frost back to its origins and close it off.”

Ciri did not reply at first, allowing him a moment of thought for what truly ending the threat meant for him. What would he do after? Return to a home where he was unjustly accused of murder? Haunted by dreams of a woman out of his reach… as she should be. To a foster son who would no doubt cut him down by the order of his kings’ true murderer.

“We need help, Avallac’h.” Ciri said when he finally turned to face her. Her eyes shined with a desperate loneliness. The kind that comes from being separated from family for far too long.

“You want to return to Gwynbleidd- Geralt.”

“I want to return home. And you know he and Yennefer could help.”

Avallac’h fought the instinct to dismiss her suggestion. He was capable and confident in his ability to train Ciri. However, with more assistance, the more certain of their success he could be. After all, Yennefer of Vengerberg was a renowned sorceress with elder race blood in her veins. And Gwynbleidd was an equally powerful ally. He did not know what turns his life would take when this was over, but he had to do what needed to be done to save his people.

“Please Avallac’h. They will help us; I know they will.”

It astounded Avallac’h that the girl did not just leave… she could if she wanted. If she wanted to take off on her own and leave him behind, she could, and he would not truly blame her. He had done little to earn her trust and respect, but for whatever reason she had, she did not abandon him.

He would return the trust… Áine would.

“I agree. But-” Avallac’h held up a hand to talk her excitement. “This will be a test of your ability. Manipulate space and time, deliver us to your family, but we will need to be quick and we will need to be prepared for the Hunt.”

She nodded along with a serious earnestness that reminded him of Caranthir. But in the next moment her lips lifted into a smile full of mischief. “Did you know you speak in your sleep?”

Avallac’h narrowed his gaze. “I do not know what you mean. Now then I believe you were meant to be creating a portal to your home world.”

Ciri rolled her eyes and turned to do as he said. “It’s ok to miss her. I mean _I’ve_ never been in love before but Dandelion - a friend from home - is constantly falling in love and every time Geralt takes him off on an adventure, he writes a new song about it.”

She didn’t notice the frozen expression of the man behind her as she prattled on. “You do not know of what you speak.” Avallac’h’s mind raced to debunk the accusations and all the weight of them.

However, she was a second faster in turning back to give him a look that said she knew every dark secret he’d ever had. “Whatever was happening in your dream, not to mention Avallac’h, that I have spent a great deal of time around the two of you, told me all I need. I know what I saw when the both of you thought no one else was looking.”

“Well it certainly wasn’t _love_. It was thinly veiled toleration at best. And it matters little as I’m wanted for regicide and hardly worth the affections of Á- the queen. And-”Avallac’h glared when Ciri opened her mouth to argue- “that is the end of it.”

“Fine.” Ciri huffed back with a matching glare. “But no one says a name like that and only feels _thinly veiled tolerance_.”

“ _Cirilla_!”

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey gang!!!! Thanks for stickin around for another chapter. I promise that its not long until these two are reunited !!  
> -Demi


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